


A Life of You and Me (The Olicity Drabble Alphabet)

by RadientWings



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drabble Collection, F/M, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Future Fic, Gen, Humor, Kid Fic, Team as Family, well some drabbles are in the future
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-26
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-03-09 02:46:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 29,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3233387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RadientWings/pseuds/RadientWings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Felicity embarrasses herself constantly and speaks in babbles. Oliver broods and shoots arrows into people. Somehow, they work.</p><p>A series of varying moments in Oliver and Felicity's relationship, from present to future (...or A to Z).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A is for ARROW

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little drabble series I've worked up ;) I will be attempting to post one drabble per day (also will be posting it on tumblr). The drabbles don't happen chronologically but they can be considered as being part of the same timeline. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

This wasn’t the first time Felicity fiddled with one of Oliver’s arrows (and by arrows, she meant like actual, literal arrows, as in the ones he used when he was all leathered up in green and  _not_  any other insinuation of the word), but, much to her chagrin, it  _was_  the first time she’d nicked her palm on it’s tip. And, well, it  _hurt_.  _Does he really have to keep these things so sharp? Really? You’d think the man would have hobbies other than sharpening his weapons and training… Then again, it’s Oliver… he doesn’t really have much of a life outside of the Arrow Cave._

She hissed in through her teeth as she pressed the towel back down on her gushing palm.  _Ow, ow, ow_.  _I hate this, I hate this._  She cursed her always busy mind, blaming it for this accident.  _If I wasn’t always thinking of five things at once at all times maybe I would have been paying more attention and this wouldn’t have happened._

_Speaking of, I really need to finish configuring that algorithm; this was only supposed be a five minute break, I mean, if I don’t finish it and get the names Oliver asked for, he’s probably going to get all growly at me-_

_Which is not the issue now. Focus Felicity! I need to bandage this hand first. Don’t want to damage the computers; my babies deserve better._

Sighing and staunchly  _not_  looking at her bleeding hand ( _it’s gross, ok?_ ), she rifled through some of the metal drawers to look for the right supplies. Which is,  _of course_ , when Oliver decided to come in, intending to get ready for a night of vigilantism. And,  _of course_ , he had to be his stupid ninja self and sneak up behind her... So when his hand suddenly fell on her shoulder, turning her towards him, her first reaction was to let out an undignified squeak of surprise.

Luckily Oliver didn’t seem to notice that embarrassing lapse, instead completely focusing on her injured hand. “What happened?” He demanded immediately, wrapping his fingers around her wrist and pulling her closer to him.  _Yep, I was right. He got growly._

“Um, well, you see-” Felicity tried to stammer out an excuse, doing her best to ignore how he lifted the towel carefully, his finger trailing gently over her palm as he examined it. “I just, I-”

“You were playing with my arrows again.” Oliver inserted for her, not unkindly, though he did raise an exasperated brow her way. The worry that had lined his face not moments before disappeared some. 

“How did you  _know_?”

“Felicity. I shoot arrows into people on a daily basis. I’m pretty sure I know what kind of damage they can cause, even when they aren’t shot from a bow.” Taking over, he was quick to reach for the medical supplies, bandaging her hand with a deftness that spoke of experience. “You’re lucky you don’t need stitches.”

“Yeah, this was completely my bad. I just couldn’t figure that stupid algorithm, which you know almost  _never_  happens, and I needed to take a minute to think… and you always seem to get some scary type of focus when you’re just  _sitting_  with your arrows and I thought that maybe I could get the same type of perspective… But then, I think I forgot how  _sharp_ they are; the way you use them just seems so easy, you know? You must have some talented hands to be able to handle them as delicately as you do, especially considering you’re a big guy.”  _Oh my_ god _, did I seriously just say that?_ She felt her cheeks go red. “I mean… what I  _meant_  is that you handle them like a pro – I guess there’s a reason you’re called the Arrow, right?” 

“Felicity.” Oliver cut in, eyes shining down at her with amusement.

She winced. “Sometimes I really wish I had better control of my mouth... And the words that come out of it.” 

She felt his chest rumble with a huff of helpless laughter until they lapsed into silence as he finished up with the bandage. When he was done, he slowly put away all the supplies, before taking the culprit arrow into his hand, turning it in his hand expertly.  _Show-off._

He turned to her with a small smile. “Tomorrow, I’ll show you how to use these; you should learn, just in case.”  _Well, I won’t argue with that, a little training may actually help my chances surviving all the sharp things in this basement,_ she thought as she watched him put it to the side to be cleaned. Just as she was about to voice her consent to his idea he leaned down closer. “And it’ll give me a chance to show you just how talented my hands  _really_  are.”

She felt herself freeze, words dying in her throat as she computed just what exactly he said.  _Oh my god, of all the things to pick up on in my ramble, he_ had _to choose_ that _?_  Oliver, noticing her distress, only gave her a knowing wink and walked to the other side of the foundry to change.  Felicity shook her head, trying to get rid of the heated feeling rising up her cheeks.

_Oh boy, I’m in trouble._


	2. B is for BLONDE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another alphabet drabble for you all - next one will be posted tomorrow ;) A big thank you for all the great feedback on the first one!

The first time Oliver sees Felicity’s high school yearbook photos he doesn’t recognize her right away (which is surprising because he thought he’d be able to recognize her  _anywhere_ ). Don’t get him wrong; she was beautiful even then, with dark hair and even darker makeup… but there was something in her expression that was distinctly different. Not exactly withdrawn, but also not with the utter passion for life his Felicity had always had either. It was like she hadn’t quite found herself yet.

He’d said none of this, of course, keeping his thoughts firmly inside. Instead he had just smiled and nodded as Donna Smoak continued to show him picture after picture of Felicity’s childhood, much to her embarrassment and his amusement. (He  _had_  always found it endearing the way her hands would flutter all around her when she got flustered and uncharacteristically unsure of herself.)

Still, for some reason, the hair color stuck with him – maybe it was because he was so used to seeing Felicity as a blonde, but he had a feeling it was more than that. Or maybe it had signified a change in her life, her becoming the person she was meant to be (much like his own physical transformation from before and after the island did for him). Either way, over the next few weeks, he found himself finding every excuse to play with her hair, tucking her ponytail over her shoulder if he stood behind her, pushing it gently behind her ears if it got loose… running his fingers through it when he kissed her. 

He knew Felicity noticed; she was too observant not to, but still she said nothing, taking it in stride… at least until now.

“Oliver, what are you doing?” She murmured sleepily against him, her head resting on his naked chest, arms thrown over him, taking up as much of his side of the bed as she could.

“Nothing.” He replied quietly as he continued to twirl blonde locks softly between his fingers, still wide-awake as he continued to think. 

She shifted so she could look up at him. “Really? Because you’ve got your brood-face on.”

“My brood-face?” He stilled for a moment, glancing down to meet her gaze, finding her smiling up at him in amusement.

“Yes, your brood-face. Just relax and stop thinking…” She told him knowingly, leaning in closer as his hand slowly trailed up to gently massage the back of her head, fingers still tangled in her hair. “Mm, but you have my full permission to keep that up.” She snuggled into him, eyes closing again.

He couldn’t help his smile. “Do I?”

“Mmmhm.” 

They lapsed into silence until, after a while, he  _had_  to ask. “Why do you dye it?”

“What?” Felicity asked, confused.

“Your hair.” He gave it a playful tug. “Why do you dye it?”

She went quiet for a moment, seeming to think it out. “I don’t know.” She finally said. “At first I did it to escape who I was before… and I guess I keep it up because I feel like  _this_  is me.”

_She found herself, after all… I was right._

Felicity sent him a teasing grin. “What? Do you not like it?” She asked, well aware that wasn’t the case.

Oliver decided to play along, using his grip on her hair to tilt her face upwards, first placing a quick kiss to the top of her head, then her forehead and cheek, before finally landing firmly on her lips. He ran both his hands through her unruly blonde locks, fingers tightening in them at the base of her neck, keeping her firmly locked against him… not that she minded, considering the way her own hands were running up and down his chest.

When he pulled back, it was only to say one thing.

“Wouldn’t want it any other way.”

And he wouldn’t… because this Felicity, his Felicity… she was the one that helped him find himself too.


	3. C is for COMPUTERS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got so into this one... it probably qualifies as a one-shot, not a drabble ;) Enjoy!

It was a well-known fact that Felicity Smoak _loved_ computers. She loved the way the worked, their machinery, their software, the way lines of code just _spoke_ to her. She loved being able to pull them apart only to put them back together again, better than they were before… So yes, she loved computers, _all_ of them (well, _maybe_ not the outdated atrocities that Oliver had had standing in the Arrow Cave before she arrived, but _not the point_ ). She did, however, have a special adoration for her _own_ computers… her babies that she had slaved over and improved and made into everything technology _should be_.

So really, no one could blame her for her reaction when she found her perfect workspace wrecked, arrows protruding from one of the HD touch screen monitors she had had to have _specially_ ordered, other bits of her precious, now _shattered_ machinery lying about.

Really. No one could blame her for what happened next.

“ _Oliver Queen!_ ”

Yep, she went there. She used her Loud Voice. And boy did it have an effect.

She saw him freeze in the corner where he had been slowly trying to get around her, obviously trying to escape her wrath. Her very _righteous_ wrath. _Oh you are not going to get out of this one, buddy._ Still, in typical Oliver fashion, he adopted an unaffected air, all stoic, turning around and acting as if he _hadn’t_ just tried to run away from her. He approached her slowly, only coming to a stop when he stood right in front of her. “Felicity.” He replied calmly. 

She crossed her arms in front of her chest, sending a heated glare up at him. “Did you or did you not shoot _arrows_ into _my_ computers?” She hissed at him.

“Uh…” 

The fact that Oliver, who was all for the inspirational speeches and the ‘you have failed this city’ dramatics, was reduced to ‘ _uh’_ only confirmed her suspicions.

“ _How_ did this happen? And you better be honest or I _swear to god_ I will make your credit balance lose a _substantial_ amount of zeros, until you’re so far in debt that even you, Oliver _Queen_ , can't get out of it. And you know I can do it.” She gave him what she thought was a hard poke in the chest (which she regretted immediately because _ow, he’s built like a brick wall_ – but she suffered through the pain _because you have a point to make, Felicity)_. 

He looked rightly terrified (which, with Oliver, meant an extra eyebrow twitch). And yet he _still_ wasn’t giving her an answer. 

“Start. Talking.” She demanded in a rather good imitation of his Arrow-voice. 

That seemed to get through to him as he mumbled something under his breath. She gave him a _look_ that told him he better speak up. He sighed, reaching up to rub at the back of his neck awkwardly, wearing an uncharacteristically abashed expression. ( _And oh my god it’s actually_ really _cute… He is a grown man, a crime-fighting, broody, adult male; he should_ not _be this adorable… Wait, no, don’t let him distract you. You’re angry, Felicity, you’re angry!)_

Finally, _finally_ he answered her. “Roy and I might have gotten a little… enthusiastic with training.”

She saw red. “This… This is a _training_ accident?”

He winced. “Yes.”

And then Felicity exploded. “I thought you were supposed to be a master archer, not a two-year-old with a new toy! Were you trying so hard to kill each other that you had to kill my computers instead? Do you even know how much these are _worth_? How much _work_ it takes me to fix them every time they get damaged? It’s one thing if my babies get hurt when other people are shooting at them, but you and baby-Arrow turning them into target practice is just _not okay_! Couldn’t you have destroyed another dummy instead? I mean, _those_ , we have in stock!” She rambled out angrily, her words stringing together at high speed as the pressing fury in her chest came out. “If you think I am cleaning up this mess, mister, you have _another_ thing coming. You are going to _fix_ this. Just the way it was before, wiring and everything.”

At some point during her frustrated babbling, Oliver had crept closer to her, enclosing his hands around her shoulders, and squeezing them comfortingly. “I will.” He told her seriously. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” She kept her eyes firmly away from him, knowing the minute that she saw his forlorn, puppy-dog, expression ( _again, grown man –_ how _does he_ do _that?),_ she’d eventually forgive him. But he wouldn’t have it, putting a finger under her chin to force her gaze to his. “I’m sorry.” He repeated, eyes burning into her sincerely.

When he noticed her sigh and lean in a little, his eyes lit up in triumph, knowing she was giving in. “I’m still mad.” She insisted, trying not to get distracted by the way his thumb was rubbing the bare skin of her neck.

“I know.” Oliver replied.

“And I don’t forgive you. Not until you make it up to me.”

“I know.” His other hand trailed slowly down her bare arm until he could twine their fingers together, pulling her a little closer.

“I meant it when I said you’d be doing all the fixing.” 

“I know.” He continued rubbed soothing circles into the back of her neck, the space between them now practically nonexistent.

“You’re going to buy me new screens. Brand new ones that aren’t even on the market yet.”

“I know.” He let his fingers fall away from her neck, wrapping his arm around her waist, the other hand still held hers, bringing it up to rest over his heart.

“You’re trying to distract me.” She finally said, looking up at him with accusation.

Oliver only smiled down at her, eyes twinkling. “Is it working?”

“Maybe a little.” Felicity replied, slightly dazed. _How did he manage to turn me into a pile of goo without me noticing?_  

His smile widened and he leaned in, intent on her lips. 

“Don’t think this over.” She told him before he could get there.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

And then she let him cover her mouth with his, sinking into the numbing pleasure of his kiss.

Still, even that didn’t quite compare to the utter satisfaction she felt the next day as she watched Oliver struggle with installing the new computers, wearing an utterly confused expression as he held a pile of wires in his hands.

Felicity didn’t let him suffer for _too_ long, though. She didn’t want him to do even more damage; she wasn’t _that_ cruel.


	4. D is for DADDY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so, this is the first drabble that's set quite a bit farther into the future - I was bit unsure of it at first but I think I made it work.  
> It was a lot of fun to write so I hope you enjoy it! Thanks for all the support so far :)

When Oliver had started his day, he really hadn’t thought that he’d end up with glitter in his hair, sitting on a tiny pink stool, holding an equally pink plastic cup and drinking ‘tea’.

But then again, things rarely went the way he thought they would nowadays.

Still he suffered through it, knowing that his playing along would bring a smile to one of the most important people in his life. And she _was_ smiling, her baby cheeks red as she giggled, prancing around him, lost in her fantasy world.

“Want s’more tea, mister elf?” She asked him as she came to a stop before him, her words hindered with a slight ( _adorable,_ his mind supplied, not that he’d admit it) lisp. Blue eyes identical to his sparkled with unconstrained joy as she placed a small, delicate hand on his cheek. “Now you gotta say, ‘yes princess’, ok? That’s how the game works.” She told him seriously.

Oliver felt his lips start to tug up into a smile, but pushed it down, copying the tiny girl’s grave expression. “Yes princess.” He repeated dutifully. 

“Here you go.” She replied as she held her plastic kettle over his matching cup, making pouring sounds and all. He held the toy awkwardly in his hand, not sure what to do next. When he’d played with Thea as a child, _she’d_ been the one following _his_ lead, not the other way around. He was completely out of his element. Luckily, his little companion seemed to understand his predicament, oddly attuned to his moods, just like her mother. “You have to drink it.” She whispered to him.

As always, he did as she asked, pretending to take a huge gulp. “Thank you, Ellie.” He told her when he set the cup back down. 

“Daddy!” She gasped, eyes growing huge in shock. “I’m not _Ellie_ now! I’m a _princess_! We’re still playing.” His daughter admonished him, shaking her head in what he was sure was meant to be a disapproving manner but only ended up making her look all the more endearing.

Oliver couldn’t hold back his smile this time. “Really? You’re _not_ Ellie?” He asked in mock surprise, reaching out and swiftly pulling her into his arms, tickling her sides, causing her to let out carefree giggles. “Where is she then? Is she here?” He turned her upside down, pretending to look. “Here?” He looked past her, all the while holding his squirming four-year-old safely in his arms. “Look’s like Ellie’s lost.” He finally said with faux resignation, as she continued laughing. 

When he’d first returned from the island, his only thought, his only _goal_ in life had been to complete the mission his father had given him. He’d been so broken back then, lost under all that pain, under all the unspeakable things he had done and was going to do... He’d _never_ expected to even _survive_ this long, let alone actually _live_ and be _happy_. But here he was. He just hoped he could keep the darkness of his past from touching the present for as long as he could. The last thing he wanted was for Ellie to think of him as the monster he once was, not the father she knew, the father who loved her with a depth that shocked even him.                                          

Again, Ellie seemed to sense his distress, and decided to speed up their game to distract him from his spiraling thoughts (he’s pretty sure that she inherited her brains and intuitiveness from her mother… but her wiliness, _that_ she got from him). She managed to ‘escape’ from his arms only to turn back around and grab his face in her tiny hands, forcing him to look at her. “No, Daddy! It’s _me_! I’m not lost!” She told him sweetly, her light brown curls bouncing about her shoulders.

“Ellie?” Oliver asked, widening his eyes purposely, before lifting his hand to tug gently on one of her curls, as if checking she was actually real.

“Yes, Daddy.” She nodded vigorously, letting out another giggle.

“I found you!” He exclaimed (with the dramatics that were necessary when playing with a small child, as Felicity had insisted time and time again), before standing up with her in his arms, swinging her round once or twice. Ellie let him do it without complaint, trusting her father not to drop her. 

“You two look like you’re having fun without me.” A new voice interrupted their game. 

Both Queens’ faces immediately lit up and the next thing Oliver knew, Ellie had squirmed her way out of his hold and dashed towards the blonde woman standing in the doorway. “Mommy, we’re having a tea party! Do you want to play?” She reached for her mother’s hand tugging her further in the playroom.

“Sure, honey.” Felicity said with a smile, allowing their daughter to pull her along until all three family members were stood together. “Hey.” She said, before rising to her tiptoes to give her husband a kiss in greeting.

“Hey.” Oliver said in return, allowing one of his hands to trail down Felicity’s cheek before settling on her hip.

“So, a tea party huh?”

“Uhuh, Daddy said we could play what I wanted!” Ellie interjected, squeezing between them. Both parents smiled down at her.

“I can see that.” Felicity told her, glancing at the table her daughter had clearly set up. She brought her gaze back to Oliver, finally noticing that there was something off with him. “What’s with the-?” She gestured to the pile of glitter that was his hair.

He deadpanned. “I’m an elf.”

Felicity couldn’t hold back her amusement any longer, bursting out into loud peals of laughter. “Of _course_ you are.”

“Hey, I think I can pull it off.”

“Daddy is the bestest elf!” Elle piped up her agreement, causing _both_ adults to break out into laughs.

Oliver shook his head and lifted their little girl high into the air, before settling her in between them. He nuzzled her face with his own. 

“I’m glad you think so, princess.”

Maybe the whims of a four-year-old were not always the best thing to follow, but if it kept her smiling and calling him ‘Daddy’, he would damn well follow them… Even if he’d still be washing out the glitter a week later.

But then after Felicity offered to help him with his ‘sparkle problem’, a sly smile on her face as she pulled him towards their bathroom, Oliver found he really had no reason to complain.


	5. E is for EMBRACE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING the following is definitely NOT fluff but full on ANGST.  
> I actually planned on doing a more angsty drabble for C before the computer idea came to me so I'm actually surprised I managed to hold back this long. (I don't usually write a lot of light-hearted stuff.)  
> But don't worry, for the most part, the majority of the drabbles will continue to be fluffy but there are going some more serious ones as well.  
> Hope you don't mind the change of pace!

Felicity was the first to notice that there was something… _off_ about Oliver lately; he had gotten quieter than usual and even _broodier_ ( _which should be impossible considering he’s Broody McBrooderton…_ ). At first, she thought that maybe he was just having a bad week (goodness knows she’s had her fair share) but then she saw the way his eyes seemed to have grown darker, the way he withdrew from them more and more.

It all hit a boiling point when Roy, Dig and Oliver were doing their traditional training routine in the Foundry, and Roy accidentally sent an arrow too near her… and Oliver, he just _exploded_ , growling and threatening in a way he had never done with them before. It was so out of character that it shocked the others to silence, Felicity looking on wide-eyed from her seat in front of her computers. _I think they’ve noticed now too_ , she found herself thinking idly.

Oliver immediately regretted his actions, letting go of the death grip he had on Roy’s shirt, having been holding him up by it. He staggered back, looking just as shocked as the rest of them. She saw unhidden guilt and self-disgust play over his face before it shuttered and went blank, leaving him looking cool and unaffected. _Cold_ , her mind supplied. The next thing they knew, he was out of the basement and up the stairs, the rest of them watching him go in stunned silence. 

And, through her shock, Felicity felt the worry she’d been keeping bottled up multiply tenfold.

She forgot sometimes, that for a long time he’d known nothing but pain, nothing but having to always look over his shoulder, awaiting the next attack, the next betrayal. She also forgot just how _dark_ he used to be, in the beginning of it all (and god does his coldness now remind her of that time). He’d never been a monster in her eyes, but he did used to give her pause and, if she were honest, there were moments where she had been afraid. Oh, she’d known he’d never _ever_ intentionally harm her; _no_ , she’d been afraid of what he’d do to _others_ , how _far_ he’d let himself go. 

But the longer she knew him, the lighter he seemed to get, talking more, actually making jokes (well, _sassing_ more than anything, really) and smiling (and good _lord_ what an amazing smile it was).

So, _yes,_ she was _beyond_ worried that all of the progress he’d made, the person he'd become, her _good_ , brave, (somewhat dorky) Oliver just disappeared overnight, turning into a poor imitation of himself.

And then it occurred to her _why_ he seemed to be reverting back to that old Oliver, the one who saw no future, no life that wasn’t under his hood.

_Oh God, today’s the day that-_

_How did we-_

_How did we_  forget?

Felicity lifted a hand to her mouth. 

“Oh _Oliver_.” She gasped out under her breath. Without another thought, she got up and followed him, ignoring Roy and Dig as they called out after her, asking what was going on. 

Because she found out what had been causing Oliver’s sudden turn around in attitude this past week.

 _Because, eight years ago today, the Gambit sunk…_ Eight years ago today, Oliver started his journey down a harsh and unforgiving road. Eight years ago today, Oliver had started to lose everything… he had watched people he loved die, one-by-one (his father, his mother, Shado, Tommy, _Sara_ ), he had lost all remnants of innocence... and he’d lost _himself_ for a while.

And yet they had _forgotten_ just what today, what this week, symbolized to Oliver. It was this week that all the pain he had gone through, all he had _lost_ , broke through his walls. It was this week that he really and truly _mourned_ … and they had forgotten to help him through it, as they had learned to do before. And Oliver, being who he was, had tried to keep it all inside like he would on a normal day, tried to keep himself together for _them_ , instead of _reminding_ them that he was human too.

 _God, how did we_ forget _?_

The last couple years, when this week came around, there hadn’t been any possibility of missing it, considering how highly televised the ‘commemoration’ was, but this year, with Glades in yet another crisis, everyone had been distracted, _including_ the media… and themselves.

 _And we forgot to_ help _him._

Felicity wasn’t sure she would be able to forgive herself for this one.

When she exited into the alley behind Verdant, she didn’t notice the cold against her bare arms, having forgotten to grab her coat in her rush. Instead, her focus was solely on the man who stood facing the brick wall in front of her, both hands against it as he gulped down huge breaths, still trying to keep it in, desperately clawing for control.

Felicity felt a sharp pain stab through her chest.

_I always knew he’d break my heart._

She couldn’t handle seeing him trying to deal with this on his own anymore.

And so she did the only thing she could think of. She ran towards him and threw her arms around him, wrapping them tightly around his waist from behind, resting her forehead against his back. “I’m sorry, Oliver, I’m so _sorry_.”

He stilled underneath her for a moment, before his entire body _shuddered_ and in the next moment, he had turned around and had pulled her into a tight embrace, crushing her to his chest. She clutched firmly around his neck, lifting herself up to her toes as he wrapped himself all around her. He bent over to rest his head against the juncture of her shoulder, hiding his face in her throat. Felicity carded her fingers gently through his short hair, her other hand moving to rub soothing circles across his back, feeling his chest continue to tremor against her as he fought against his overflowing emotions. There was no sound apart from his hitching breath, neither speaking, Felicity knowing that the thing Oliver needed, _wanted_ , most was her silent support… her comfort. She knew that if she said anything now, he would pull away from her, run from it all and hide behind cold masks again.

So she stayed quiet, and didn’t comment on the wetness she began to feel against the bare skin of her neck, or the building pressure behind her own eyes.

Later, Felicity knew, he would apologize, and he would beat himself up over what happened today, putting more guilt on his shoulders than necessary (and yes he would probably brood more); and he’d take his anger out on the criminals of Starling, deal with his emotions as he normally would… and then he would be the Oliver they know again, _her_ Oliver.

But in that moment, she stayed with him and she _hugged_ him with all her might because he _needed_ it, needed her.

The rest could wait.


	6. F is for FELICITY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The return of the fluff! This one is more a look into Oliver's thought process than anything, but it was definitely fun to write. Hope you enjoy!

Before he’d met her, Oliver had never known anyone named Felicity. And now… now he couldn’t even imagine not knowing a Felicity… not knowing _his_ Felicity.

In a time where he’d been consumed by darkness, drowning in it, distrustful of everything around him, she’d been so _genuine_ , so real and _human_. Even then, he’d seen that. It had been the first time since he’d come back to Starling City that he found himself consciously thinking that she, _Felicity Smoak_ , was someone he had to remember, for no other reason than because he _wanted_ to.

It had proven to be one of the best decisions of his life. From that very first moment, she had crawled her way into his blackened heart and had stayed there ever since, filling it up with her laughter and her babbling and her thirst for life. She forced him to see the good in himself, as well as the bad… she forced him to be better, to be _more_. And he _trusted_ her. He let go of his ingrained suspicion of the world and had opened himself up to this petite woman with dyed blonde hair, a genius level IQ, and the biggest heart he had ever known.

And so ‘Felicity’ became synonymous with comfort, with support… and with _home_. She became his safe place, the one person he could turn to that could help him with everything. Yes, he had the team (and he wouldn’t know how to continue without them, at least not anymore)… but with Felicity…. with Felicity, he could be vulnerable; he didn’t always have to be the strong one, the fearless leader. He could just be imperfect, damaged Oliver. He could be himself completely and utterly. 

And he said her name, a _lot_ , because for a _long_ time, he couldn’t express his feelings in any other way. He couldn’t admit to how he felt about her, in explicit terms. So he loaded it all into her name, over and over again. Oliver’s pretty sure she noticed it too, in the quiet moments, when he’d say her name like it was plea…. A plea for her to look deeper, for her to understand what he meant. And she’d get a faint blush on her cheeks and would turn her face away, a small smile playing on her lips.

When he finally did manage to put the words out there (‘ _I love you, do you understand?’_ ), it had been a weight off his shoulders, even though it had been part of a ruse. He’d felt lighter, happier… and he knew that he _meant_ it. Of course, it took Felicity a while longer to understand that he’d been truthful, that he honestly did love her… so he had told her again (‘ _don’t ask me to say that I don’t love you’)_ , in as many ways as he could (‘ _and you know how I feel about her’_ ). It was like when he let it out, he just couldn’t lock it back up again (‘ _I love you’_ ).

And he continued to say her name like it was a prayer. _Felicity._  

Until finally, _finally_ he wasn’t the only one saying it anymore (‘ _I love you, Oliver, I love you’_ ). 

And from there… from there, they decided they would never let each other go again. Oh it had been hard, _brutal_ even… they fought and they bickered with the best of them. But they also _loved_ each other with a passion that was so rarely found. And, against it all, they worked, they really, really _worked_.

God, he was happy he’d walked into her office that day.

Because otherwise, he wouldn’t be here, standing in the bedroom of _their_ apartment, waiting for the most important person in his life to just get _out_ of the bathroom so they could make their reservations.

He knocked against the door again. “Felicity.” He said, dragging her name out, letting it roll on his tongue.

“Coming, coming! You can’t rush perfection.” Finally, she opened the door, letting him get full view of her. His next words died in his throat as he looked down at her, just admiring her, the way the red shade of her dress stood out against her creamy skin, the way her soft blonde hair fell to one side against her bare shoulder. 

“You look beautiful.” He told her with complete sincerity, reaching out push a stray lock of hair away from her eyes, letting his fingers gently caress her cheek as he did so.

Even now, a year and a half into their relationship, she blushed slightly at the compliment, just smiling at him before she reached up and readjusted his tie for him. The utter domesticity of the action sent a pang through his chest. 

“Ready?” He asked her. 

“Yeah, let’s go. Where are we going by the way? You still haven’t told me… Which isn’t really that out of character, since you’re _you_ and you like surprises, but can you at least give me a clue? A hint? Something?”

Oliver just sent her a wink and put a hand on the small of her back, guiding her out of their apartment. He thought to the small black box he had sitting in his pocket and smiled. 

He really did love getting to know Felicity Smoak… but he couldn’t wait to live his life with Felicity Queen.

He just hoped she’d say yes.


	7. G is for GREEN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this one was definitely a fun one to write. I think parts of it have probably been done before but it was fun all the same... hope you all enjoy!

She did it subconsciously at first, finding herself buying more and more green clothes instead of the usual reds, pinks, and blues that her closet was filled with. It didn’t even occur to her what she was doing until one night she was sitting in her living room, painting her nails a shiny emerald, wondering  _why_.

Of course, it took her about two seconds to figure it out (she  _was_  a genius, after all). She was doing it for Oliver (well, for herself  _really_ ); she was doing it because if there was one thing he seemed to notice, it was her wearing green…  _his_ green. And when she did, he would get that  _look_ , the one that said that she was the only thing he was seeing, the one that stated she was unequivocally, unapologetically the  _only_  one he wanted.

It gave her a thrill to know she had that much power over him, that much power over arguably the most powerful man in Starling City.

And well, it gave her a thrill because this was  _Oliver,_  who she’d had an embarrassing crush on from the moment she saw him. Who smiled at her when she babbled, and always took her ideas into consideration, who never thought she was less than what she was. Oliver who, when he was usually so suave ( _do people still use that word?_ ), had been nervous asking her to dinner… who, when they finally got together, didn’t hide her or how he felt about her for even a second.

And so, she decided to step it up a notch. She smiled as she went through her jewellery box, picking out something she’d been saving for the right moment. Without another thought, she pulled out her thick industrial piercing and replaced it with the one in her hand, before heading out and towards the foundry.

Of course her plan was slightly thwarted by another criminal thinking they could endanger Starling’s citizens when it was under the Arrow’s protection. Fortunately, it didn’t take long to take care of and the other members of Team Arrow were quick to take the opportunity for a night off.

As they all slowly trickled out, only Felicity and Oliver remained. She stayed quiet as he went through his post-crime fighting routine ( _the fact that he even has one says a lot about our lives_ ), she herself shutting down the monitors and getting ready to leave. Taking a moment to run a few software updates, she readjusted her ponytail.

Suddenly she saw Oliver freeze in her periphery, his eyes slowly focused on her new accessory. “Felicity.” He said, dragging her name out in that way that he _knew_  made her insides into goo.

 _Finally._ She turned in her chair, adopting an innocent air, despite knowing that he was onto her. “Yes?”

Oliver saw right through her, his eyebrow rising in disbelief. But he played along, reaching forward to push some stray hair from her cheek, his thumb tracing of the bar of her new industrial earring. “What’s this?” He asked, though he obviously already knew, his fingers tracing the tip of the miniature arrow she had bought a few weeks ago. (She just hadn’t been able to resist – she had known it would make him look at her the way he was right now, all  _smoldery_ and  _unf_.)

She smiled at him, cocking her head to the side as she rose to stand in front of him, their chests a mere inch apart. “Just something I saw and liked.” She applauded herself internally for being able to keep her voice so steady.

“Is that so?” He murmured, placing his hands on table behind her, trapping her between his arms and crowding her back against it. She found her hands going to his chest, trying to stay steady as her heart beat faster. Oliver smirked down at her, obviously enjoying the effect he had on her,  _that_   _jerk_. “I hope you know this isn’t going to help your cover.” He continued, acting infuriatingly unaffected.

“At least it isn’t ‘I ran out of sports bottles.’” She snorted, trying to distract herself from his proximity. “Seriously, for someone who spent years surviving on an island, another few training in a super spy agency, you had some  _really_ bad excuses. Even I can come up with something better than  _that_  and I have the tendency to stick my foot in my mouth. I even did it literally once, after one of my heels broke and I went falling down some stairs. Let me tell you it was _not_  pretty, or in any way attractive.” She winced at her babble, turning her eyes away from his amused gaze ( _this was not how this was supposed to_ go) and instead focusing on his chest, her fingers playing with the zipper of his leather jacket. “Which… is not the point I was making.” She cleared her throat. “ _Point_ is I can make a good excuse… and I like it.” She referred once again to the arrow that decorated her ear, bringing her gaze back to his. Oliver still said nothing, content to just look at her, which only caused her to get more nervous. “And I hope you do too, because otherwise this whole thing would be really embarrassing, because I’ve been waiting for weeks to wear it and I just-”

Finally he put her out of her misery and swiftly cut in. “Felicity.” He said simply, laughter in his voice.

Her mouth immediately snapped shut, only for him to lean in and cover it with his own. She immediately sighed into his kiss, winding her arms around his neck to bring them to a more even height. She felt his arms wrap around her as well, pulling her flush against his chest, one hand lifting to cradle her head, fingers tangling in her hair. She gasped when he moved from her lips across her cheek and to that sensitive spot by her ear.

“I love it.” He whispered gruffly as he pulled back from her heated skin.

Felicity, impatient, just let out an approving sound before yanking his head back up to assault his lips. He pressed her against the desk, causing it dig uncomfortably into her back, but she found she couldn’t care less when he shifted down to the juncture of her neck, his stubble grazing her sensitive skin.

After a while, he headed back to her lips. “No green today?” He murmured against her mouth.

Felicity felt that odd power surge through her again, bringing her face up to his ear. “Nowhere you can see.”

At this, Oliver’s eyes flashed and darkened and he swiftly kissed the living daylights out of her. He only pulled back when she sufficiently dazed, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “For  _now_.”


	8. H is for HOOD

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this drabble is kind of related to the last one, but it's set further in the future ;) Hope you like it!

Ever since he returned from the island, Oliver has _hated_ costume parties. There was something about everyone walking around in disguise that set his experience-honed instincts on edge. It gave people an excuse to hide behind a façade. He supposed it was hypocritical of him, considering he spent most of his days wearing many different masks… especially back in the beginning, when he’d been more comfortable under his hood than in his day-to-day life. But to see others doing the same made him very uneasy, like there was a threat waiting for him around every corner.

Before, however, when he’d been nothing but a shallow trust-fund-dependent playboy, he had _loved_ being in a room full of people behind masks, loved the thrill of getting around unrecognized in whatever overly ridiculous costume he had picked for the occasion. Being able to wreak havoc and do as he pleased, with no one the wiser.

But now… now he dreaded it.

He hadn’t thought it could get any worse than it already was, however.

He had been wrong.

Because, Thea, being Thea, had decided to throw a monthly theme night at Verdant. And, again, being Thea, she had told him that he just _had_ to come to at least one, in a show of brotherly support.

Of course it was just his luck that this month’s theme was ‘superheroes’.

Which is how he ended up in a room with an entire crowd of people wearing green hoods… _his_ hood. Oh, there were a few red Arsenals in the mix, and a couple of Flashes, but the majority of them were distinctly Arrow… though it was hard to tell on a few of them, considering the lack of material their costumes were made of.

Seeing everyone wearing hoods was… disturbing, to say the least. Maybe if he were a less damaged man, a better man, he would have been flattered to see so many people wearing mock-ups of his suit… but as it was, it made him nothing but weary. To him, it trivialized the gravity of what he and his team did everyday… what they fought for and what they had lost in that fight.

The whole thing was just _suffocating_. He had started his mission in the shadows, when had it become so _public_? 

He was pulled out of his thoughts when someone put a familiar hand on his arm. He turned quickly to find Felicity standing by his side, still wearing her works clothes from earlier, having obviously come up from the hidden basement. Despite his melancholy, he managed to dredge up a half-smile for her, before diving down to give her a swift kiss in greeting. She leaned into him with a soft sigh, expelling some of his dark thoughts.

When they pulled back, she gave him a bright, sunny grin. “Saw you coming in through the cameras, thought I’d come say hi.” She told him, wrapping her arms loosely around his neck whilst she looked up at him. 

“Glad you did.” Oliver told her, giving her another peck as he tried to bury his dark feelings.

She noticed it in him anyways, her brow creasing in worry. “Are you ok?” She asked, her fingers playing idly with the short hairs at the back of his head.

“I’m fine.” He replied stiffly, pulling away from her. He placed his hand on the small of her back and led them to a more secluded corner of the packed club, dodging all the green suits as they did so, which only added to his ever-growing discomfort. 

“Really? You’re fine? Because you look like you swallowed a lemon…” She told him with no small amount of sarcasm, before she glanced around again, realization dawning on her face. “It’s the hoods, isn’t it?” 

He didn’t say anything. Not that he had to. This was Felicity, after all. Sometimes he felt like she knew his thoughts better than he himself did.

She sighed slightly, reaching over to grab his hand with hers, their twin wedding bands shining on their fingers. “Oliver… I know you feel like all _this_ shouldn’t be a part of what you do, what _we_ do… But, _this_ , this means that I’m not the only one who thinks you’re a hero anymore.” At his curious look, she smiled, once again leaning close. “Do you remember back when you started all this? And you were just the Vigilante, the Hood? There would not have been a single person out there wearing green; because people _feared_ you just as much as they admired you… they didn’t know what you were, what you were doing. But _now_ , everyone in Starling knows who you are. They know that the Arrow’s out there to _protect_ them, not hurt them.” She paused, allowing her eyes to wander over the various different iterations of his costume people were wearing.

He followed her example, slowly beginning to see his situation in a new light. 

“You’re their hero, Oliver.” Felicity repeated, bringing her burning gaze back to his. A part of him still fought against the idea that he could be _anyone’s_ hero, but over the years he come closer and closer to accepting it, especially when a certain blonde looked at him the way she was now. “ _And_ you’re mine too.” Here, she paused and a mischievous light entered her eyes. She came in closer, leaning up to his ear. “And who knows, maybe next time I’ll join in on all the fun. You _do_ like me in green.”

Oliver felt his dark spell disappear completely, his mind now completely focused on the woman in front of him. He smirked down at her, before abruptly pulling her flush against him. “Well, Mrs. Queen, I wouldn’t say no to you trying out the real thing.” He suggested, referring to the suit that was sitting downstairs on a mannequin, his voice deep.

Felicity stared at him for a long moment, before she burst out into laughter. “Oh my god, I can’t believe you just used that on me. My own husband actually just used a completely cheesy pick-up line on me. This is literally the best that’s ever happened.” She exclaimed, leaning her forehead against his chest, still shaking with delighted laughs until he couldn’t help but join in, all former tension draining from his shoulders. 

“Did it at least work?” He asked teasingly.

“Just a little bit.” She said playfully, patting his cheek once. “But don’t worry, I’ll give you plenty more chances, I’m stuck with you, after all.” 

“How unfortunate for you.” Oliver said dryly, before ducking down to press a soft kiss to her forehead, thanking her in his own way. Her returning smile when he pulled away showed she understood.

_What would I do without you?_

He didn’t want to think about the answer to that. 

It was a good thing his wife had a penchant for distracting him, especially when later that night she decided to wear nothing but his green leather jacket, hood up, citing that she ‘was just trying it on for size’.

Oliver was tempted to let Felicity keep it; it suited _her_ better than him. At least, for the short time it was actually on.


	9. I is for ICE CREAM

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one directly relates to the 'daddy' drabble (it's set before). Hope you enjoy!

Felicity loved her life, she really did. Despite the many horrors and atrocities she’d witnessed and experienced, she was _happy_. Happy because she had everything she wanted, needed. She had a purpose in life, one that was bigger than just working IT in a cubicle (not that she hadn’t been good at it, of course; really, sometimes she wondered how QC had _survived_ so long without her, considering the state of their internal servers…). She had her friends, her family, in Team Arrow. She had Oliver, her partner, her _husband_.

And now, she was about to have another (mini-sized) person in her life. And she couldn’t _wait_.

So, yes, _logically_ she loved her life.

But she was _really_ starting to dislike being pregnant – currently eight months along, she was _so_ close to the finish line that she just couldn’t handle the waiting anymore. So much so that she was reduced to _sports analogies_. _(‘Finish line’? C’mon Felicity, you can do better than that!_ )

And beyond that, Felicity, who already suffered from a lack of brain-to-mouth filter ( _a severe_ , severe _lack_ ), really didn’t need all of the added hormones that carrying a child brought. Not to mention the _cravings_.

She just _really_ couldn’t wait for baby Queen to come into the world. She wanted to meet the little nugget that had been keeping her up for so many nights (and probably many more to come). She just wanted to hold her and Oliver’s baby in her arms now.

Sighing heavily, she leaned back into the couch as comfortably as she could, her hands automatically going to her swollen belly, waiting impatiently for her wayward husband to show up. She’d sent him out nearly two hours ago and the grocery store really wasn’t that far (plus, she’d only asked for _one_ thing)… it shouldn’t be taking him _this_ long. Finally, _finally_ she heard their front door open and mere moments later, Oliver was in their living room, his arms loaded with bags.

Felicity’s eyes immediately widened and she sat up a little straighter. “Oh my god, Oliver, did you buy the whole _store_?”

He shrugged in faux innocence, wearing a knowing smile as he set some of the bags on the coffee table. “Maybe?”

She couldn’t help the returning smile that tugged at her lips. “Well, did you at least get what I asked for?”

“Of course.” He smirked, reaching into one of the bags and pulling out not one, but _three_ tubs of ice cream, (Mint Chocolate Chip, _of course_ ), the very thing she’d been craving all day. He cracked one open, handing it to her with a spoon that seemed to appear out of nowhere, leaning down to press a lingering kiss to her lips before relinquishing it to her.

She immediately dug in, letting out a small, satisfied moan. As she continued eating, Oliver began pulling out a bunch of other things from his bags, placing them all methodically on the table, a strange sort of mirror image to how he kept the Arrow Cave, everything organized into neat lines. 

“What’s all that?” Felicity asked when she found the willpower to pull away from her ice cream.

Oliver sat down besides her, immediately wrapping his arm around her shoulder. “Today seemed like a particularly bad day so I thought we could take the afternoon off.” He gestured to the stuff he’d brought, which she just now noticed was a pile of different DVDs ( _yep, Oliver still buys movies on disc, instead of buying them online like every other person in the world_ ), what looked like one of those fancy foot bath things, and a couple of new blankets (all in a soft pink, and she knew they weren’t just for her, seeing that they would go perfectly with the new rocking chair they’d bought the other day).

Felicity felt her heart swell as Oliverreached over and threw one of them over their legs, his hand coming to rest against her belly, as was his habit ever since she told him she was pregnant (well, not told him so much as give a _huge_ hint in the form of a baby-sized Arrow-jacket that she’d put on his desk… but that’s a story for another time).

“Well, your child _is_ quite the trouble maker.” She teased him with a smile, before reaching over to clasp his hand, pulling it more firmly against her stomach. She then leaned up and gave him a long kiss in gratitude. “Thank you for this.” She told him softly, sincere.

He got that achingly gentle look in his eyes, the one that only she could seem to bring out in him. “Always.” He told her lowly, his thumb rubbing small circles on her swollen belly. 

 _God_ , she really loved him sometimes.

 _Maybe being pregnant isn’t_ that _bad_ , Felicity thought as she snuggled deeper into Oliver’s embrace. Despite his hovering, he’d had been nothing but sweet and considerate to her during this whole experience… and, well, she was going to have a _baby_. A little tiny person that she imagined was probably going to have her nose and Oliver’s bright blue eyes. A daughter, _their_ daughter.

She really couldn’t complain.

Besides that, there was always more Mint Chocolate Chip in the world.

And Oliver would be there to bring it for her.


	10. J is for JEALOUS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I realize this is a day late but I really needed a night off - I was just sooo stuck, haha. Anyways, hope you enjoy! (Also, sorry for any typos - I always seem to miss a few no matter what I do.)

She’d tried. She had really, really tried not to let it get to her. But even Felicity had her limits (very high limits, but limits nonetheless). And believe her when she said _she had reached her limit_.

It had all started a couple of months ago, when she noticed Oliver was having even more sleepless nights than usual. And when she noticed it was because his work at QC was piling up on top of Arrow hours, she asked him why he didn’t delegate more to his assistants…

Only to find that he had yet to hire a new EA since retaking the company.

When they’d reacquired Queen Consolidated, Felicity had told Oliver that under no circumstances would she be once again reduced to being his secretary… He’d agreed and promptly made her the head of IT. (She’d protested at first, not wanting people to think she’d slept her way to the top… but then she remembered that sadly those rumors were already out there and weren’t going anywhere anytime soon, so she’d given in. Besides that, Oliver could be quite persuasive when he wanted to be and it was _the dream job_.)

It had never even occurred to her that he hadn’t replaced her yet – yes, she’d found it odd that whenever she went up to see him in his office there was never anyone at the desk right outside it. (But then she’d assumed he’d sent away whoever usually occupied that seat whenever she came around… things did have the tendency to get quite _heated_ between them.)

When she asked him _why_ he had waited so long, Oliver had admitted he wasn’t sure what he had to look for in an EA. Sometimes she forgot he was probably the least (formally) qualified CEO out there – but he was the best choice for the job, anyways. Because he had heart, and he was _smart_ , smarter than most people realized… now she just needed to find that rare someone who _did_.

After a long and very tedious search, she’d found her. A woman by the name of Eliza Hartley. She’d been perfect. Her interview had been professional, her CV spotless. Felicity hadn’t thought twice about hiring her.

Of course, she also hadn’t thought about the possibility that perfect Eliza Hartley might not, in fact, be as perfect as she appeared.

She should have seen it, the look Eliza had gotten in her eyes when she’d first met Oliver, all appraising and ‘ _yes please_ ’. But Felicity, being Felicity, had been too busy giving him the same look. (In her defense, she was actually _with_ Oliver and had been for a solid two years _as everyone knew_ … and he was a _notorious_ flirt towards her, constantly returning her looks and touching her and whispering things that were _definitely_ not work-related and highly inappropriate in her ear whenever he got the chance.) 

No, Felicity only saw it a month _after_ she hired the woman. It had been a particularly difficult day at QC and she’d needed to take a break and go see Oliver (he really was more cuddly than he appeared and she’d need some good old-fashioned cuddling). However, she really hadn’t expected to enter his office only to see his new EA practically _in his lap_ as she leaned over him to ‘help’ him with his computer.

Felicity’s first thought had been _hey, that’s_ my _move_. Her second had been, _oh_ hell _no,_ as she felt a hot burst of anger coil in her chest. But she’d reined it in, thinking she was just over-reacting, especially when Eliza had quickly stepped backed upon seeing her.

She couldn’t have been more wrong. Over the next few weeks Eliza had seemed to find every excuse to touch Oliver, getting bolder and bolder, lingering too long when she handed him things, adjusting his jacket, standing _way_ too close and clutching his arm. And the _looks_ she’d send him, god how they made her skin crawl. She’d even gone so far as to spill coffee purposely down his shirt so she could help him clean up and change.

And then she’d actually had the _nerve_ to give Felicity a triumphant smirk, as if to say ‘he won’t be yours much longer’. 

But Felicity had said nothing, had tried to be the better person and not let it get to her. She knew where she stood with Oliver, knew that he’d never break her heart like that ( _especially with someone as plastic as Little Miss Perfect)_. If there was one thing she was sure of, it was that he only had eyes for her and was oblivious to all attention he got elsewhere (even when said attention was always two steps behind him and getting closer _by the second_ ).

However, when she walked past the break room to hear Little Miss Perfect say ‘oh please, it’s not like he hasn’t slept with his secretary _before_ ’ and ‘you know men like that get bored easily, especially of someone as plain as _her,_ I mean, who still wears glasses?’ to a gaggle of other female employees, Felicity _lost_ it.

 _That. Is._ It _._  

Felicity adjusted her apparently unnecessary glasses and marched right into the room, wearing a look on her face that would rival even the Arrow’s glares (and goodness know Oliver had the glaring thing down pat). 

“You know Eliza, I may not be the expert, but I thought you were the executive assistant to the CEO, not a vain gossip with delusions of grandeur.” She said icily as the room fell into shocked silence.

Eliza turned around slowly as the other women watched on, wide-eyed. Her face was red with rage as she glared at Felicity. “ _Delusions_? You won’t be calling them delusions when your boyfriend sees what a mess you _really_ are and decides he wants a taste of some fresher waters.” 

Felicity actually let out a laugh at that, finding that statement utterly ridiculous. _Fresher waters, really?_ That’s _the best she could do? Oh god I really can’t wait to tell Oliver_ that _one_. 

Her laughter only seemed to make Eliza angrier. “Listen here, _bitch_ , you can’t win against _me_. So you might as well admit defeat and walk away. You do _not_ want to mess with me.” She hissed, stepping closer until she loomed over Felicity in a way she probably thought was intimidating but served more as a source of amusement than anything else. _(When did this become such a chick flick?)_

 _Oh, I am_ so _going to enjoy this_. 

“I think you're a little mixed up there, _honey_ , it’s you who doesn’t want to mess with _me_. In exactly five minutes I could have access to all of your digital information, from your bank account to your social media. This little image you’ve created for yourself? I could _destroy_ it. And not just online. Did you know that the Mayor of Starling owes me a few favors? That I have the Chief of Police’s number on speed-dial? Or that I know every big-wig in this city and I will not hesitate to tell every single one of them who you _really_ are. So. Just. _Try. Me_.” 

Throughout her speech, Eliza seemed to get paler and paler. “You wouldn’t.” 

_Why do people always underestimate me?_

Just as she was about to reply, a familiar voice interrupted from behind them. “Oh she probably would.” They both turned to see Oliver leaning against the doorway to the break room, watching them both with dark eyes, clearly aware of what was going on. 

“Mr. Queen, I-” Eliza started immediately; trying to save whatever face she had left.

“I’m sorry Eliza, but I’m going to have to ask you to return to your desk and pack up your stuff. I’m afraid your contract at Queen Consolidated is terminated.” Oliver said firmly, coming to stand by Felicity’s side, his hand going to the small of her back. “I don’t take well to people calling my fiancé a ‘bitch’, especially not my assistant.”

And then without another word, he quickly guided Felicity out of the room and away from a speechless and shocked Eliza Hartley, having effectively dismissed her presence in about half a minute.

 _And good riddance too_ ,Felicity couldn’t help but thinking as she leaned a little closer to Oliver, following him as she he led her back to her office, anger marring his features just the slightest bit. (He always did have a protective streak.)

When they finally made it to her personal office, he closed the door firmly behind them and swiftly pulled Felicity against him, wrapping his arms tightly around her.

“I really should have done that sooner. The woman could _not_ keep her hands to herself.” He told her sincerely, a look of righteous anger about him.

Felicity couldn’t help it. She laughed.

It hadn’t occurred to her that Oliver had reached his limit too.

So she did the only thing she could, she went to her toes and kissed him. And when she pulled back, she only had one thing to say.

“Next time, we’re hiring a very straight, very married man.”


	11. K is for KILLER

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I realize it has been like three days, so sorry about the wait ;) Just been too busy to get one out! But from here on I hope to get back to my regular schedule :D

It never occurs to Oliver that this could happen. It never occurs to him that there is real visceral evidence of his time with ARGUS other than in his nightmares.

And it certainly never occurs to him that Waller would send some of that evidence to their doorstep, in a calculated move to get him to cooperate with yet another one of her heinous plans all for the sake of the greater good.

So when he enters the foundry and sees his team gathered around one of the monitors, watching an old, dark reflection of himself prepare to interrogate a man (one of the many faces that haunt his dreams) who’s been tied to a chair in the middle of a cold empty room that he remembers all too well, he is shocked to stillness.

He hears words coming through in mangled Mandarin, unanswered questions asked, threats made. ( _Who do you work for?_ _Who sent you to kill the senator? If you tell me now then I’ll make this quick…_ ) And as the silence stretches on, he sees his eyes darken through the emotionless mask he wears on the screen, before he releases the arrow, sending it piercing through the man’s right shoulder (causing said man to let out a pained grunt). He nocks another in quick succession and shoots for the left shoulder this time, cruel and efficient. Once again, he shouts questions, his voice a low growl, but the man only shakes his head, mumbling in agony.

Oliver knows what comes next… knows that this isn’t where he stops. 

A part of him wants nothing more than to turn away, to ignore the dark deeds of his past, but his eyes are glued to the monitor.

And so he watches. He watches himself move slowly forward on the screen, his bow held loosely in one hand. He sees himself shoves a piece of cloth into the man’s mouth ( _he would be of no use to Oliver if he bit through his tongue, unable to give him the answers he’d been asked to extract_ ) before leaning down and brutally twisting one of the arrows, pushing it in deeper. The man started to struggle in his bonds in earnest, his screams muffled but no less chilling. The Oliver on screen did not pause, and simply continues with an unnatural calm.

_Cold._

_Professional._

After several long moments, the cloth is removed, and once again questions are asked… and once again he does not receive what he is looking for. 

The video continues like that. First he brings pain, and then asks questions that are only answered by screams. Over and over again. It’s messy and ruthless but it’s also done with an odd sort of efficiency, a harsh beauty that no one but him and others like him can see.

Finally, when it’s clear that he will not be getting anything from the man, he picks his bow up for the final time. He sees himself shoot a final arrow through the man's eye, remorseless and unblinking. And then he sees himself walk away, hands covered in blood. 

 _Judge, jury and executioner,_ Oliver finds himself thinking as the video cuts out to black.

 _Torturer_.

 _Murderer_.

 _Killer_.

His team turn away from the blank screen, just noticing his presence in the room. The silence between them all is heavy, distrusting. He is tempted to run, but he quashes it down, knowing that it would only make matters worse. Now is not the time to fall into old habits. 

“I'm sorry you had to see that.” He says gruffly, his hands fisting at his side. He takes a step towards them and immediately notices when Roy tenses minutely, the weary look Laurel wears. Dig’s expression is blank, and Oliver knows that he is dealing with his own demons, ones that seeing the video had brought back up.

They pull away from him, even if it’s the slightest bit. 

But Felicity, _Felicity_ , she does the opposite. She comes closer, without hesitation, and reaches for his hand. The instant she interlocks her fingers with his, all thoughts of running leave him.

She doesn't say anything, but she leans into him, one hand going to his chest over his heart, looking up at him with steady blue eyes. He sees no disgust there, not like he had thought there would be… no, there is only understanding and sadness, but the sadness is for _him_ , for what he had been through and who he had had to become to survive. She tilts her head at him as if to ask if he needs a moment to recover. 

Oliver just shakes his head in return, letting out a loud exhale. He could pull himself together, if she stayed with him. And she does more than just that. She swiftly takes control of the situation, seeing that, despite his protestations, this is difficult for him… that it has cut through his normally ironclad defences. (That he _does_ need a moment.)

She tells the others to continue with the mission they had been working on before this happened, but sends Dig to Waller, wanting to pass on the message that they will still not do what she wants, that under no circumstances will they change their minds. And then she takes Oliver by the hand and guides him to the computers, sitting in front of them and making him to stand behind her. In the next few minutes, he watches as she simultaneously guides the team and destroys all evidence ARGUS has against him, getting rid of any possibility of them (more specifically, _Waller_ ) using it to blackmail him again.

Hell hath no fury like Felicity Smoak. 

She completes her tasks with her usual finesse but instead of lingering, she immediately stands and turns to him. 

He knows she must see the doubt, the self-disgust in his eyes when she says, “that’s not you anymore, Oliver; you did what you had to survive.”

Oliver can only nod, feeling relief at her words but knowing that it will take him a while to get past this day… that it will take the others a while to accept what they had witnessed and move on from it.

But when he feels more than sees Felicity walk around her chair, her arms wrapping around his waist and her head against his chest, unafraid, he thinks that maybe they can make through.

Like they always have.


	12. L is for LOVE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I managed to finish another one! Thanks for all the continued support ;)

Felicity has always been well aware she could be an awkward cookie ( _which is a_ huge _understatement_ ). She knows she has issues with controlling what words come out of her mouth and _when_ they do (she’s made too many accidental innuendos _not_ to know). She’s also aware that this meant it was difficult for others to take her seriously sometimes.

She had, however, thought that she’d outgrown it somewhat, especially since joining Team Arrow; there are only so many jokes you could make when facing life or death situations on a daily basis. She liked to think she kept the atmosphere light, made it all bearable, but even she’d been having trouble seeing the good parts of their situation lately, considering the ever-building body count. It was all simply _too much_ at times.

And she hasn’t even really mentioned Oliver yet. 

_He can just be so… ugh… difficult!_

As things in Starling started to deteriorate, despite their collective efforts against it, Oliver, in typical Oliver fashion, had only gotten even grumpier and bossier than usual ( _and that’s_ definitely _saying something_ ). Even Felicity, with her infinite patience ( _well… kind of_ ) and her equally infinite love for the man was about ready to explode at him.

_Sometimes he just really has his head up his ass. Growly caveman that he is._

So, of course, when he decided it was a good idea to yell at her for _not being at her best_ , Felicity’s ‘ready to explode’ changed to just plain ol’ ‘ _explode’_. 

_I. Am. Done._

“ _I swear to god Oliver,_ if you say another word I _will not_ be held accountable for my actions.” She found herself interrupting his grunted rant, eyes flashing as she turned away from her computers. 

He glowered at her, crossing massive arms over an equally massive chest, looming over her in a subconscious intimidation tactic (one that hasn’t really worked since about the second time he tried it on her). Felicity didn’t back down, moving closer instead. She heard the others shuffle away awkwardly ( _probably don’t want to be around when ‘Mom’ and ‘Dad’ are fighting_ ).

Oliver didn’t take her warning seriously. “Felicity. We don’t have time for you to be _distracted-_ ”

She saw red.

“ _No,_ no you do _not_ get to come in here and growl at me for _doing my job_ ” She immediately hissed, cutting him off completely. “You know that we can’t always win. This wasn’t on _me_. If anything, it was on _you_. You’ve been _the_ most _unhelpful_ and _oppressive_ and, and _annoying_ person to deal with the past few weeks. I get that it hasn’t been easy lately, believe me, _I understand_ , but instead of taking it out on us, you could just _talk_ to me! Or at least _listen_ to me instead of being so stubborn. I’m your fiancé, _not_ your _employee_. When you say we’re partners, you have to mean it! You can’t just take that back whenever you _feel_ like it!” She lifted her hands in exasperation and then fell into silence, breathing hard, but already feeling marginally better at getting all that out. She glanced up at Oliver, noticing his formerly angry expression turned into one of remorse. Still, she turned away from him, not quite ready to forgive him.

“I’m sorry.” He finally said, softly. The rare apology took her by surprise but she stood fast, not willing to give in just yet. She felt him put his arm across her front, on hand resting on her shoulder, and pull her back into his chest, whispering the words again.

Felicity cracked, allowing her head to fall into her hands for a moment, but leaning backwards into him. “God, _why_ are you _so hard_?” She let out tiredly before blushing, realizing how that could be taken (Oliver noticed too, considering the little huff of amusement that escaped him), “I mean- what I _meant_ was difficult! No, insufferable. That’s the word I was looking for, _insufferable_. As in ‘difficult to bear’ or ‘hard to deal with’.” She babbled, trying to get her mouth and emotions under control. Finally, she cleared her throat. “Sometimes I should just not speak words.” She muttered under her breath. 

Oliver shook his head, before pressing his face momentarily into her bare neck from behind. “I disagree.” He told her lowly, lifting his head again as she tilted her face so she could meet his eyes. “I should have just listened more closely before.”

She turned fully then, allowing herself to be pulled completely into his arms, burrowing herself into his chest. “You’re right about that.” Felicity sighed softly, before continuing. “You made me use my Loud Voice. You know I don’t like using my Loud Voice.”

A hand rubbed soothingly up and down her back as he sighed. “I know. I’m sorry.”

Felicity pulled back just the slightest bit, one hand coming up to cup his cheek, thumb stroking up and down his stubble. “I know you are. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry too. It’s not your fault either, I shouldn’t have said that.” Oliver shook his head at that, his hand rising to rest over hers. Still, she pressed on. “I just… I want you to be happy. I want you to be able to think outside of this cave; you know that.” She felt her throat clog with emotion, tears burning at the backs of her eyes, begging for escape.

“Felicity.” Oliver pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear, gaze shining down at her. “I do think of things other than this. I have ever since I met you… I can’t do this without you anymore.” He admitted, resting his forehead against hers.

“You won’t ever have to.” Felicity said fervently, her words a promise, before once again succumbing to his embrace. “I love you.” She whispered gently into the leather of his jacket.

“I love you too.”

She supposed that this is what love is like. Overwhelming. All-consuming. Raw. Painful.

But also incredible, passionate, and incomparable. _Precious_. 

It was a feeling worth listening to. A feeling worth giving into.

And _God_ did she love Oliver.

 _But_ , Felicity thought, _he loves me too._

_And that… that makes it all the more precious._


	13. M is for MOTORCYCLE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was soooo fun. Big thanks to all you readers (and to my bestie Greti for checking each and every one of these for me :D)

“Um, I really don’t think this is a good idea. That… that _thing_ is not safe.” Felicity said nervously, still gasping from the sprint they’d just come out of. She bent over slightly, her entire body protesting against any further movement. _Man, I really need to work on my cardio. Also, wearing heels whilst Arrowing with Oliver – not a good idea._

_And that just sounds wrong… Even in my head._

Oliver didn’t say a thing, face still obscured by his hood as he continued to set the motorbike up, not commenting on her worried rambles. _God, I’m really regretting pushing for more fieldwork now. But he needed tech support and no one else in the team could hack that mainframe in the time that I did it and, just, ugh. I should start catching these people up to the 21 st century (_especially _Oliver)._

_This is getting unacceptable._

“Oliver, do you have any idea how many people _a day_ get injured on one of those things?” She gestured to the death trap that was his precious motorcycle ( _boys and their toys_ ). “There is _no_ way I’m getting on that. I can deal with you riding one, and with Roy using his own, because you both have like crazy fast reflexes… And I know, you like things fast…” She was talking so quickly and still so out of breath that she didn’t even have _time_ to wince at that one. “I mean you like fast things. I mea-”

Oliver cut in, voice deep in his Arrow persona, though his eyes shined behind his mask. “Felicity.” She stilled as he put both hands on her shoulders, steadying her. “You’ll be fine.” He told her firmly.

Unfortunately, that didn’t work like she was sure he had hoped it would. “Are you sure I can’t still join Dig and Roy in the car? They can’t be that far away! I mean, I can run and catch up – I’m not that… _that_ winded. So I’m just going to-” She gestured in the general direction that their friends had gone, only to hear a gunshot go off and to have Oliver suddenly yank her to the side, both of them falling to the ground, his body covering hers.

Felicity’s already pounding heart sped up tenfold. _Why did we have to get caught the_ one _time the getaway car already ‘got away’?_

Oliver cursed above her, going into full protective mode as he stood up, helping her to his feet whilst at the same time readying his bow. He shot two arrows in quick succession, managing to slow down their pursuers. Felicity was willing to bet that if she weren’t right there with him, he would have gone after them himself. As it were, however, he wasn’t going to put her safety in jeopardy like that (and though she was getting better at defending herself, she was still predominantly the brains of the operation, not the brawn).

 _Not that Oliver doesn’t have brains… but he also has muscles_ on top _his muscles._

 _Which_ I _do not_.

Oliver taking her by the hand and running her back to his beloved bike pulled her out of her erratic thoughts. Before she could even formulate the _idea_ of another protest, he had already placed his helmet gently over her head and was straddling the seat. He motioned for her to get on behind him. “Come on, we’ve got to go.” When she hesitated, he held out his hand to her. “Trust me.” He asked softly. 

She exhaled and finally nodded, placing her small hand into his outstretched one. She paused for too long as heard their pursuers get closer, another distant shot spurring her into action. Despite her fear, she climbed on to the abominable thing.

And the next thing she knew they were _flying._

Well, not _literally_ , of course.

But still, they very suddenly _rocketed_ forward, and Felicity could hear blood roaring in her ears. 

She barely managed to let out a gasp as she scrambled for purchase, already feeling herself falling off. She grabbed at Oliver, managing to catch his jacket in one hand, using her grip to wind her arms tightly around his waist, pressing herself up against him, entire body tense with terror. She held onto him like a vice as the motor beneath them roared, sending them speeding down Starling’s dark streets.

“Ok, Felicity, hold on tight. And don’t forget to move _with_ me, alright?” Oliver shouted over the wind and noise. 

She must have made some noise of affirmation because soon enough they were taking some very, _very_ sharp turns in an attempt to lose their followers. They sped up and slowed down, wove in and out of different lanes but _still_ they were on their trail. The longer she rode however, the better she was getting at it. Soon she found herself anticipating the turns Oliver made before he made them, leaning her body with his… And despite the fact that they were getting shot at, Felicity felt herself relax into his back, trusting him completely as they rode through the city with wild abandon.

And as _Oliver_ got more and more confident that she was ok behind him, his moves got even _more_ daring.

And well… it was kind of… _fun._

Still, even _she_ knew that what Oliver seemed to be planning next would be near impossible to pull off.

_Oh my god… he isn’t, is he?_

_He wouldn’t._

They approached the makeshift ramp that he had spotted earlier, accelerating _way_ beyond the legal limit.

 _Oh. He_ would _._

_Oh god._

“Oliver!” Felicity screamed, squeezing him even tighter. But her protest came too late because in the next moment they had hurtled up the ramp and they were sent (this time quite _literally_ ) flying through the air.

_We’re going to die._

She could see it happen in slow motion as the bike fell from underneath them.

_Yep, we are so dead._

But, in a highly surprising and _extremely_ impressive move of dexterity, Oliver somehow managed to twist his body in midair as the motorcycle went soaring, grabbing her with one arm and pulling her into his chest so he could take the brunt of the soon coming impact.

Which he did, managing to tuck them into a safe ( _well, relatively_ ) roll as they crashed into the ground, his grunt the only sign of just how _uncomfortable_ that must have been. 

Beyond them, his prized motorcycle became a literal ball of fire as it exploded, blocking their stalkers in their path, enough so for the police to show up. ( _Thank god for Captain Lance and his direct connection to Team Arrow._ ) 

And then things went silent for the first time that night.

_Did that just-? Did that really just happen?_

Felicity, still on top of Oliver, rolled so she lay beside him in the gravel, gasping for breath as her speeding heart pounded loud in her chest. She lifted her hands to the helmet and yanked it off, needing to catch her breath as the adrenaline that coursed through her system wore off. She could feel Oliver also trying to recover from beside her, though most of his attention was on her, checking her for wounds.

“Are you ok? Felicity?” He asked, hands cupping her face and forcing her to meet his concerned gaze.

She nodded, still reeling from the events of the night but physically unharmed. _I might be a big walking bruise tomorrow but I can handle it._

Oliver relaxed minutely, but forced himself to stand, helping her as well. Together they limped towards the getaway car that had _finally_ reappeared. ( _And why couldn’t they have been here twenty minutes ago?_ ) Still, Felicity was grateful to see it as she leaned into her green-hooded boyfriend, trying to keep herself upright as exhaustion settled in her bones. She felt Oliver pull her in a little closer, arm surrounding her protectively, his worry for her practically tangible.

She rolled her eyes. _He’s the one that’s limping not_ me _. I’m just a little tired._

Still, Felicity decided to lighten the mood a bit and turned to look at Oliver seriously. 

“I’m not saying I want to do that again…” she started, watching his expression grow curious, “ _but_ I kind of want to do that again.” 

This time it was Oliver that rolled his eyes (though he would forever insist that he did _no such thing_ ), but at least he wore a smile on his face.

And Felicity couldn’t help but grin in return. 

_Huh, guess they aren’t so bad after all._

_Maybe I’ll have Oliver teach me._


	14. N is for NIGHTMARES

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah... it's been a while. Sorry! University has just been too much lately. But anyways, really hope you enjoy this one! Fair warning though, it's rather angsty...

He always saw blood first. Always. His entire field of vision was filled with varying shades of red and black. It’s dark, always so dark. And then he heard the screams. The screams of the men he killed, the men he tortured. His own screams, from his time on Lian Yu, and further beyond that.

And then the images began flashing before him. His father holding the gun to his head, the hellish first days on the island, Slade and Shado and Sara, his mother and the sword that had been stabbed viciously through her abdomen… So much pain, so much death. 

But that wasn’t the end of the nightmare… No, then came his worst fears, the ones that had yet to occur but that a part of him was so _sure_ would happen… they started to haunt him, tearing at him. He saw his team looking at him with disgusted eyes, each of them abandoning him in turn, having finally realized what a monster he truly was. And then he saw Thea, his little sister, his _family_ , wrecked beyond repair, twisted into some dark unrecognizable killer… the innocence, the _goodness_ , that had once shone in her eyes long gone.

And then came Felicity. _His_ Felicity.

 _No. No, no, not this again._  

Only, in Oliver’s mind, she no longer looked like Felicity. No, she wasn’t the strong, sunny woman that lit his daylight hours. Instead she lay broken on the floor, soaking in a pool of her own blood, face unrecognizable beneath all the gore. In his dark dreamscape, he could hear the echo of her screams, _cries_ for help… pleas for an end to the _suffering_.

_I can’t see this. I can’t._

_No, please, no._

But despite his own internal protests, his mind would not let go of the image, wouldn’t expel his fear of losing more people he loved to his mission.

So his dream-self started running towards Felicity’s body, desperate to prove to himself that this wasn’t what it looked like. That it was some sort of sick joke and that he could _save_ her. Save her from himself…

But it wasn’t to be.

Because the dreams always stayed the same. The nightmare never changed.

And when his phantom hands took her body by the shoulders, shaking her, he knew his attempts were in vain. _No! Felicity! Please not again!_

 _No!_

He felt darkness clawing up at him, crawling all over his skin as his vision faded, the picture of Felicity’s empty, dead eyes imprinted on his mind. He began to struggle against the endless black, his ears roaring as he truly and utterly _panicked_.

“Oliver!” He heard a voice through the fog. “It’s ok… Oliver, wake up!”

Suddenly, something snapped, and he could see different shades in the black, and a part of him realized he wasn’t sleeping anymore, that he was in his darkened room.

The next thing he realized was the blonde that was currently lying under him, his arm hovering over her throat, ready to crush it.

“Felicity.” He gasped it out, abruptly moving his arm away and instead allowing himself to melt into her, covering her body with his, reassuring himself she was alive, feeling her breaths against his chest.

The first few times she had caught him mid-nightmare, he had pinned her out of instinct, and he hadn’t been able to stop himself from wrapping in a brutal headlock, leaving dark bruises in his wake. The first time it had happened, he had considered not sleeping beside her, sickened with himself, but Felicity would have none of that. And she wouldn’t stop waking him up from his nightmares either ( _“I can’t see you in that kind of pain, Oliver, not when I can stop it”_ ).

And eventually, he adjusted to it; it was as if his subconscious mind suddenly got used to her presence beside him, enough so that he didn’t hurt her anymore (he still ended up pinning her, but he never allowed himself to cause another bruise again).

So now, instead of ripping himself away from her in self-disgust, Oliver let himself relax into her, moving down to rest his head on her chest, still gasping for breath.

“I’m sorry.” He croaked.

Felicity said nothing, knowing now was not the time for words. No, now he needed her presence, her comfort. She ran her fingers through his short hair, soothing, holding her tightly to him.

Maybe in the morning they could talk… maybe in the morning, he could face his fears, face his nightmares… but for right now, for right now, all he wanted was this, was her. _Felicity._


	15. O is for OLIVER

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry about the long wait again! I'm getting back on track though so the next drabble will be out tomorrow or the day after! :) Also, because everyone has been so patient, I'll already tell you tomorrow's prompt: it's 'proposal' :D

Felicity had always known that Oliver and Ollie were not the same person ( _ok, yes,_ literally _they are the same human being, but that’s besides the point_ ). What she _meant_ was that the person he had been before the island was _vastly_ different from the person he was now.

 _Ollie_ had been innocent (despite his protests to the point)… he hadn’t known pain. _Oliver_ , on the other hand, knew more agony than most people experienced in a lifetime. 

Oliver was the man, Ollie the boy. 

Oh they still shared some traits. _Looks, obviously_. But also their loyalty to family, their strength of will (though in Ollie’s case, that will was more often than not misguided, even more so than now). But apart from these base things, they were entirely different people. 

Because… Ollie, _Ollie_ had had the _potential_ of a great man. 

 _Oliver_ , though, _was_ a great man. 

Oh he had his flaws, there was no doubt about that. But that’s because, for all his virtues, for all his greatness, he was still just a man. But a man that deserved her respect, and her love, no matter what he thought about the matter.

So Felicity only ever called him Oliver.

Others still called him by different names; he would always be Ollie to Thea, forever hoping that he was still the brother she knew from childhood, despite the changes he had gone through over the years. To Laurel, he remained Ollie as well, still the screw-up in her eyes, the boy that left her behind all those years ago.

And to others still he was the Hood, the Vigilante, the _Arrow_. A faceless weapon. 

Sometimes people forgot that he was still just human, even the members of their own team were guilty of that. Even Oliver himself fell into the trap of thinking that he was _more_ than a man, or that he _should_ be more than a man.

So Felicity made it her mission to remind him, by grounding him and giving him the love he so deeply craved. It anchored his human side, kept his heart open to her and the others he cared about.

Which is why she was not allowing him to weasel his way out of her current request. _Really, a little dinner won’t kill him. Stupid, stubborn,_ self-sacrificing _man._

“I need to go back out there, Felicity.” Oliver protested in a low growl, pulling away from the hand she had firmly on his bicep. 

“The others can easily take care of one little robbery.” She replied smartly, moving in closer to wrap her arms around his green-clad waist. “So come on, you did promise me dinner at home tonight. We can order our favorite and I’ll even keep tabs on everything using my tablet.” She looked up at him with big eyes, waiting until he sighed in half-hearted defeat and put down his bow, finally allowing himself to return her embrace. _Better._

“The team better contact me the minute the second something goes wrong.” He muttered, giving in, as she knew he would.

Felicity beamed up at him, giving him a quick peck and stepping slightly out of his arms. “Great! Now, leathers off buddy.” She immediately winced at how that sounded, and held up her hand before he could comment on it. “And _please_ don’t say some clichéd line about how ‘if I wanted to see you naked, I could just ask.’ Believe me, I _know_.” Oliver’s face brightened in amusement, blue eyes twinkling in that way they often did when he looked at her. “I’m just making it worse, aren’t I?” _Sometimes I wonder why I even speak._

“Don’t worry, I’m always willing to take my leathers off for you.” He replied, his chest vibrating with laughter before he turned away from her, picking up his civilian clothes. 

“ _Oliver_! I told you not to comment on it!” Felicity’s yell was without any heat as she smiled at his retreating back.

_Oh, Oliver, where would you be without us?_


	16. P is for PROPOSAL

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this one's a bit different because I decided to do it in present tense (it just seemed to fit better with the situation, haha) so I hope it works out ;) I'm still a bit unsure about it but enjoy! :)

He’s nervous, and he’s not hiding it well. And he knows he’s not because Felicity is giving him that look that says she thinks he’s cute, which is really not what he’s going for but he supposes it’s better than her laughing at him.

“Are you sure you’re ok, Oliver?” She asks him yet again. 

He nods, unable to get the words out of his tongue-tied mouth. He’s pretty sure Tommy would have been crying with laughter by now, to see his normally suave best friend so lost at what to say. As it is, he knows Dig and Roy will never let him live this down when Felicity eventually tells them. Come to think of it, Thea and Laurel aren’t likely to forget about this particular story either.

At least no one else is here to witness his uncharacteristic nervousness firsthand. He’d planned for them to have their privacy and that they do, the two of them sitting alone on the rooftop of the newly redubbed Queen Consolidated, the meal he’d arranged for them already finished. They had just reopened his family’s company today, after he had won it back from Ray Palmer.  It had taken years of work, of course, and he couldn’t have done it without Felicity. He wouldn’t have _wanted_ to do it without her. So he couldn’t imagine a better moment to do this (and he didn’t want to wait any longer)… though he does wish it were going more like it had gone in his head…

“You do _not_ look like you’re ok. What’s going on?”

Finally, words seem to come to him. “Nothing bad, at least, I hope nothing bad.” _Wait, these aren’t the words I wanted._ He tries again. “But that’s besides the point-”

Felicity swiftly cuts in, putting a hand over his. “Oliver, you’re babbling. You _never_ babble; _I’m_ the babbler in this relationship. Just tell me what’s on your mind.”

For some reason, her hand in his calms him, makes him focus… it reaffirms that this is what he wants more than anything. He feels his heartbeat slow the slightest bit, as if he is preparing to loose his bow, not pop an age-old question. His sight narrows down to only her and, _god_ , what a beautiful thing she is to see. His lips tug up into an unconscious smile and he smoothly (yes, _smoothly_ ) moves from his seat and onto one knee before her, still holding her fingers in his. Felicity’s eyes go wide and her free hand flies to her mouth.

“Felicity Smoak.” He starts, taking a breath before the words (the _right_ words) just come to him. “I told you once that you were the first person after I got back from the island that I really saw as a _person_.” That warmth that he has come to associate with her grows in his chest as he continues speaking. “I knew from the very beginning that you were something special. And I couldn’t stay away from you… you were just so genuine. And when I told you my secret, you didn’t run away.” He says this with wonder, because at the time he had been the _Hood_ , someone to be feared in the dark, not someone to be trusted, as she had done. “After that you became my friend, my confident… and my partner... _I love you_.” He does not embellish these words, knowing very well they do not need it. Sometimes simple words hold the most power.

From the gleam of Felicity’s gaze, he can tell that she understands and that she more than returns the sentiment.

“Felicity Smoak,” he repeats; his lips tug into an even wider smile and he’s sure his eyes are shining, “would you do me the honor of marrying me?”

He pulls out the ring he has been carrying for weeks, one of his own making, beautiful but not ostentatious (or so he’s been told by his sister; but he knows that he can trust Thea with these sort of things). It carries one perfectly cut white diamond on its center, and a small arrow is engraved on the inside of the band (he knows it will make her smile). 

Felicity is uncharacteristically silent as her gaze falls on it, but she shifts to the end of her chair. She bends closer to his kneeling form, leaving mere inches between them, her hair falling slightly onto his shoulders. Her eyes are alight with a myriad of emotions, one hand still at her throat in shock…. But she holds her left out, and spreads her fingers, waiting. His heart stutters. 

But Oliver takes his cue ( _thankfully_ ) and slides the silver ring onto her finger. It fits perfectly.

They’re still silent as she brings her left hand closer to her chest, admiring the ring, her eyes shining with tears. She brings her gaze back to his, opens her mouth to speak, but then shakes her head, speechless. 

_That’s a first. Felicity Smoak without words._

But, as always with Oliver, doubt begins to creep in, his instincts, honed from years of pain, tensing, expecting more hurt to be thrust upon him.

“So, is this a yes?” He finds himself asking, wincing internally at his show of vulnerability. He’s never been particularly good at baring his heart for the world to see, despite the fact that he has been doing so all afternoon. But this is Felicity, she deserves as much, if not more. 

That seems to break the dam and she flings herself onto him in a gesture of pure, unadulterated _happiness._ “Yes! Yes of course!” She exclaims and before he can even begin to feel the utter relief and exaltation building in his chest, she has pulled him into a kiss. He finds his hands moving to gently frame her face, holding her close _._  He can’t even begin to describe what he is feeling. Oliver has spent the last ten years of his life knowing all the evils of the world… but now, to have something so entirely _good_ in his life… he doesn’t know how to explain it.

Wait, yes he does. He’s _happy_. Happier than he thought he’d ever be.

After several long moments, Felicity breaks away from his lips, leans her forehead against his. “Marrying you… I couldn’t _dream_ of anything better.” She tells him quietly, her fingers tracing over his cheek, as if she can’t quite believe what is happening. And then she lets out a happy laugh and he does too before he spontaneously surging up and pulling her into him, only to kiss the living daylights out of her (as she would put it).

“Does this mean I have to change my name to Mrs. Queen?” She asks him later, between breathless kisses. 

Oliver smiles against her lips. “Only if you want to.”

“Felicity Queen.” She says, feeling it out. _He_ feels his heart stutter at the way it rings in his ears, how _good_ it sounds. “I think it has a ring to it.” She finally finishes, speaking his thoughts… So he pulls her impossibly closer, refuses to even think about letting her go for the foreseeable future.

_Mrs. Felicity Queen. She’s right. It_ does _have a ring to it._


	17. Q is for QUEEN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I think this is one of my longest drabbles yet... probably more of a oneshot really ;) Hope you enjoy!

Felicity had only been married for a couple weeks when she started noticing the fact that everyone was already calling her Mrs. Queen. She had just returned from her two-week honeymoon with her very good-looking hubby when the first person did it; she hadn’t thought much of it at the time, but then who would when she had Oliver at her side?

It was when she first went back to work that she _really_ noticed the change. After spending more than a few days away from civilization, away from _technology_ (seriously how had she _survived_ ), the first thing she did was go to her precious (well her and Oliver’s, though she doubted he called it ‘precious’) IT department. As the department head, it was her job to make sure everything was working right… and if she tinkered a bit with the super computer she was building from scratch, well who could blame her?

The first thing she noticed when entering her personal office (something Oliver had _insisted_ on… and she had given into when she realized it could be used for things other than _work_ … he really made some valid arguments), was that the nameplate on her door had changed. _Felicity Queen_ , it said now; she still sometimes forgot her name change, but after twenty-eight years of using Felicity Smoak that was bound to happen.

Of course, _no one else_ seemed to have forgotten the name change.

Especially Gerry, her ever-faithful EA, who had followed her to the IT department when the company went through yet another serious management change, couldn’t seem to stop calling her Mrs. Queen… _Despite_ the fact that just before her wedding to Oliver, she’d finally managed to get him to call her Felicity. 

Everywhere she went, it was always _Mrs. Queen this_ and _Mrs. Queen that_ … And it wasn’t that it bothered her exactly (she chose to take on his name for a reason after all) but it was rather disconcerting. It was as if as soon as she became an official member of the Queen family, she was suddenly treated completely differently. Maybe it was the fact that the news of her marriage was everywhere in Starling… she did suppose the Queens were like Starling royalty (and boy did that make her want to snicker… _Queens_ ). 

Still, even she had to wonder at the fact that a new employee at her favorite coffee house pulled a ‘Mrs. Queen’ on her even though she remembered specifically telling the kid she was just _Felicity_.

It seemed like every average Joe in Starling now knew who she was… and for someone used to obscurity, used to keeping secrets (green, hooded secrets to be exact), this was beyond troubling. She supposed she was lucky it hadn’t happened sooner, considering how long she’d been ‘associated’ with Oliver.

She could deal with the recognition though… it was the paparazzi she had a problem with. She had been assured over and over again by Oliver and Thea, and even Laurel to some extent, that they would lose interest soon enough. But Felicity didn’t know if she could hold out so long. It was just so frustrating trying to get through her day whilst simultaneously being watched like a hawk. Luckily Dig had been conveniently assigned to be her personal bodyguard for the next few weeks… and no one dared venture too close when they saw the sheer _size_ of her friend (honestly, the man’s arms were the size of her _face_ ). With him by her side, and the rest of their team and, of course, her new husband, she was managing.

She had _had it_ though, when she walked into her office one day, opened her tablet to check the day’s news, only to have the most _ridiculous_ , _untrue_ headline shoved into her face. 

**_Has Mrs. Queen Already Found a New Man?_ **

Underneath the title there was a picture of her and Roy from the day before, having lunch together as they did every other week. Of course, in the picture, she was conveniently leaning over and had a hand on his forearm. _As if_ that _is incriminating? What the hell!_

Despite herself, she began skimming the article. ‘ _Felicity Queen née Smoak has been spotted around Starling in the company of one Roy Harper… close associates to the Queen family have confirmed that the two ‘have a close bond’… despite the fact that Harper has been linked to Thea Queen, it has been rumored that Harper and Queen have had a falling out… perhaps Thea’s new sister-in-law has something to do with this suspicious break-up…’_

Felicity snapped her tablet down onto the table, too angry to care that she was mistreating one of her babies. How could people think she would _ever_ cheat on Oliver? And with _Roy_? _He’s practically my little brother!_  

She was both disgusted and saddened. And she was _done_.

Which is why Oliver found her a couple of hours later, still in her office, sitting under her desk (no, she was _not_ hiding… okay maybe a little; give her an Arrow mission over the media any day) and furiously typing on her tablet. She’d locked the door but she supposed she should have known that it wouldn’t keep him out.

“Felicity?” He ducked down to look at her, sounding mildly concerned.

“I’m not hiding.” She snapped immediately, wincing at how unconvincing that sounded. _Nice, Felicity. Smooth._

Oliver shook his head. “Of course not.” He said neutrally.

Her eyes narrowed. “I’m _not_ , Oliver. I just needed some… privacy.”

Her husband nodded in acceptance before his gaze traveled to the work she was doing on her tablet. Amusement played around his lips. “Are you trying to hack into the-?”

“Too late. Already gone viral.” Felicity cut in, with no small amount disappointment. _If only I’d known about the original article sooner… I could still technically get it down, but it doesn’t matter anymore… everyone’s already seen it._

 _But that doesn’t mean I can’t get back at the_ idiot _who decided to write the stupid thing in the first place._ If she were a super villain, she’d be cackling evilly by now. 

As it was, she simply fell into deeper concentration, as lines of code filled her vision ( _let him try to write another article about me when he can’t access his laptop)._ She felt Oliver’s eyes on her; proud and just a little bit worried about her wrath (as he should be). He’d joined her on the floor at some point, uncaring that his gray Armani suit (that Thea had painstakingly picked out for him) was likely getting dirty. He sat by her in silent support, one hand idly playing with the end of her ponytail, watching her work over her shoulder. They didn’t often get quiet moments like this and Felicity found herself actually starting to enjoy what had started off as a truly crappy situation.

But then a knock on her office door startled her. “Mrs. Queen?” She heard Gerry call through.

 _Really? I’m so_ sick _of all the Mrs. Queening!_

“That’s _it_!” She hissed, turning to Oliver. “I’m making it a rule that no one gets to call me that anymore! No one!” She poked him hard in the chest, eyes narrowed menacingly (at least _she_ thought so). Her husband clearly didn’t though, as amusement danced in his gaze.

Okay, maybe she was just getting paranoid about the whole thing, but who could blame her when there were grown men stalking her and telling lies about her all for the sake of making money? _I_ hate _paparazzi._

Oliver, in the meantime, had bent even closer to her, moving his lips to her ear. “Are you sure about that…” he murmured softly, dropping a kiss to her neck, “…Mrs. Queen?”

Felicity swallowed, suddenly feeling very warm. “Well… I guess you can be exception, Mr. Queen.” She told him in the same soft tone he had used, wrapping her arms around his neck. She remembered suddenly why she’d insisted on the name change in the first place; she just loved this man so much.

He smiled that wide, genuine smile that she adored, before leaning and pressing his lips against hers briefly. “Good. Now let’s get out there.” He extracted himself from her and stood. “Show them just who the Queens are.” Oliver finished with the slightest of smirks, holding a hand out to her.

“I like the sound of that.” Felicity clutched her tablet closer to her chest and took his hand, allowing him to pull her up in one swift motion.

 _Maybe being a Queen isn’t_ so _bad._


	18. R is for RUSSIAN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this one took so long (again) :( But I'm done with this year of university so I have a whole summer of writing to look forward to! Hop you enjoy this one and thanks for all the support!

Felicity’s always had a thing for foreign languages, more than that, she’s always had a thing for men that can speak foreign languages. (But, _really_ , can you blame her? Besides, it was hardly a rare fetish to have… she thinks.) Maybe it was the fact that she herself could only speak English (unless you call code a language, which she thinks should be considered one, but that’s besides the point); she’s always wanted to learn but she’s just never had the time. Or it could be that it was the fact that it took intellect to learn another language; and, if nothing else, Felicity held a lot appreciation for intelligence (and she didn’t just mean book-smarts either).

So yeah, foreign languages were pretty hot. And she was unashamed to admit it. Mostly.

So the fact that Oliver, _her_ Oliver, spoke two other languages _fluently_ , impressed her. Sometimes more than the skills he had with a bow. Sometimes.

She’d never told him that straight out though, knowing that she’d probably mess up and start babbling about the fact that she likes the way Russian ( _God_ , _especially Russian_ ) sounded from his tongue and that she used to have dreams about him speaking it to her from before they were dating… She didn’t even want to consider the amount of accidental innuendos that she probably would have made. Not that Oliver would mind, of course, but it still embarrassed her that even now she couldn’t control what came out of her mouth around him.

So it was a definite _no_ on telling Oliver that whenever he started in Russian she went rather week in the knees and got all fluttery in a way that was much more akin to a thirteen-year-old girl rather than the twenty-seven-year-old woman she was. 

But that didn’t stop her for pushing for undercover missions… especially ones where languages other than English had to be involved. Such as, _say_ , a Russian diplomat who wasn’t just visiting Starling to speak at a conference. Really, one couldn’t deny the power of Oliver’s voice coming through one’s earpiece… especially when he was getting all growly and Russian. _That ‘diplomat’ never even realized what was coming._

Still, she should’ve known he’d eventually figure it out; Oliver may present himself as a clueless (former) billionaire, but anyone who knew him like she did was aware that this was most certainly _not_ the case. _He didn’t become the city’s greatest legend through idiocy after all._ He was surprisingly perceptive and strategic, as his years of hard training and experience had taught him to be, and used these traits to his advantage.

Even when it came to her.

 _Especially_ when it came to her.

So when there were _one_ too many missions that involved Russian of some sort… well, Oliver found out.

He’d just come in from said mission (which had been a blatant success and far easier than the usual Arrow mission… facts that probably helped to tip him off), and was quick to send the other members of the team off for the night… leaving only him and Felicity, who was, as per usual, sitting at her computers, completely immersed in the security program she was redeveloping for their lair. She barely noticed that the usual busyness of said lair had calmed down, silence encapsulating her.

So when Oliver suddenly appeared behind her, all ninja stealth mode, and dashed a quick kiss to her cheek, she let out a _very_ undignified squeak of surprise and probably jumped more than a foot in the air.

“Oliver!” She exclaimed, gulping (and no she was _not_ breathless). She could feel his laughter reverberate through his chest, but he didn't comment on her little lapse, instead focusing on continuing to distract her. Not that she was going to complain. Because, well, _why_ would she? It was sizing up to be a great evening – first she managed to hear more of Oliver’s language skills ( _yes please_ ) and now her workaholic of a boyfriend was actually, _voluntarily_ stopping work early for the night to, seemingly, spend some time with her ( _double yes_ ). 

Felicity let out a satisfied sigh, leaning into Oliver’s hands, which had begun to massage her shoulders. His lips were currently skimming the side of her jaw, trailing up to press a quick kiss to her temple.

“I didn’t know you had such an interest in foreign languages.” He said lowly, his nose nuzzling her ear lightly. Felicity almost sighed happily again until the meaning of his words filtered through the foggy giddiness that had taken over.

She tensed. _Foreign. Languages._

_Damn it._

Just as suddenly as she froze, she _un_ froze and abruptly spun her chair around. Oliver had to make what _he_ called a ‘fast tactical retreat’, but simply consisted of him scrambling ( _gracefully, mind you – he’s still the Arrow, after all_ ) out of the way. Once he stood still again, he crossed his arms over his chest and looked down at Felicity expectantly. She, in turn, studiously avoided his gaze in order to reevaluate the situation, completely missing the ever adoring and amused light in her boyfriend’s eyes.

“I didn’t think you’d notice. Well, I hoped you wouldn’t.” She finally said, refusing to give into the embarrassment she could feel creeping into her stomach. _You are a functional,_ adult _woman; there’s absolutely nothing wrong with admiring a man’s skill set. Especially if that man shares your bed every night and eats the last of your good cookies that you keep hidden in the cupboard supposedly_ away _from him… Really, the least he could do is let you have your fun._

“There’s not much I don’t notice…” Oliver replied gruffly, leaning close again, hands moving around her to grip the edge of the desk behind her. Their faces were inches apart now, breath mingling.. She watched as his eyes darkened, causing a shiver to run up her spine, her entire body tingling. Her heart skipped a beat, before it began hammering in her chest, entirely focused on his proximity now and what that promised. _I should not be this affected by him, we’ve been together for nearly a year now…_

But then again, it kind of thrilled her that Oliver and her hadn’t lost that spark they’d had since the beginning. She had always been afraid that if they finally got together, they would lose that… that their feelings had just been due to their circumstances, rather than actually for the other person. It had only been a very small part of her that had these doubts, but she was still very glad that they had been proven wrong. She couldn’t imagine not being with Oliver the way she was now. 

Felicity refocused on the man in front of her and tried to break some of the nervous tension. “Yeah, I should have remembered not much gets past you.” _Well apart from common sense… he can be rather dense sometimes … Seriously._

Oliver seemed to sense her thoughts were drifting again and took that moment to decide to continue on his earlier mission of distraction. Only now his lips sealed firmly over hers (in a decidedly passionate kiss) instead of skimming over the skin of cheek. _He’s really pulling out all the stops… well he’s not the only one who can do that._

Finally, he pulled away from her lips only to once again whisper in her ear. But _this_ time she didn’t understand a word he said. Because, _of course_ , he decided to speak in Russian.

Deep, guttural, holy _hell_ sexy Russian. Something he now knew she had a weakness for.

And, though she didn’t understand the actual words he was saying, she did get the gist of the message. And _man,_ did she suddenly go weak at the knees. (Thank _god_ she was still sitting.)

But, despite all this, she _so_ wasn’t going to let him get the better of her. A plan began to form in her head and she got ready to carry it out.

“Well, I guess it isn’t so bad that you found out.” She told him in reply, winding her arms around his neck and arching up into him. She saw his pupils dilate in barely concealed desire and felt a devious smile spread across her face. Felicity got even closer and let her lips hover over his, tempting him… only to pull away from them instead. “You really need the advantage.” She finished off, trying not to let the satisfaction show in her expression _too_ much.

Oliver’s eyes lit with the challenge she had just doled out. “You _sure_ about that?”

“Definitely.” Felicity whispered, darting in to kiss at his jaw, before suddenly ducking under his arms to stand beside him. She quickly grabbed her tablet and switched off her computers whilst he watched her, stunned at her slyness. Not giving him a chance to recover, she shrugged on her coat and headed to the door. She paused in front of it to throw a satisfied grin over shoulder. “You didn’t really think it would be that _easy_ , did you?”

And with that, Felicity Smoak, made her exit, ponytail swishing and glasses glinting.

Of course, Oliver Queen, followed soon thereafter, determination in his eyes and, as always when he looked at her, a whole lot of pride.

And, of course, he showed her later that night that he really _didn’t_ need the help. Not that she hadn’t already known that. But she decided it was best not to reveal that fact.


	19. S is for SISTER

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this one was really fun to write. It's short and sweet (I think); so, anyways, I really hope you enjoy it!

It never occurred to Oliver to worry about Thea and Felicity spending time together. If anything, he had thought it would be a good idea for the two of them to get to know one another. Despite the fact that he and his sister were as close as siblings could be, he still sometimes felt there was a gap between them; that there were some things they just didn’t talk about. Maybe it was because of the age gap (ten years definitely made a big difference) or maybe it was the time they had spent apart when he’d been on Lian Yu… Regardless, Oliver and Thea had had a lot of trouble learning to get along again, and even now they sometimes struggled to understand each other like they used before… well, just before.

So, naturally, Oliver thought that Felicity might be able to bridge that gap a little, considering she was the most human of any of them. Not just that, but she had a natural talent for just pulling other people in, for making them trust her.

And that was something he thought his sister needed. Because, as much as he loved Thea and would always, _always_ be there for her… he also knew she felt rather lonely in this new world of hers, this world of heroes and villians and everything in between.

So, yes, he encouraged them to get to know one another. And, despite his ever-dwindling influence, it actually _worked_.

Felicity and Thea got on _spectacularly_ well, surprisingly so even.

Only, Oliver never thought his plans would end up like _this_ … with the two most important people in his life staring him down. Really, he loved his sister and he loved Felicity and he couldn’t be happier that the two of them were now such great friends… but he didn’t particularly like it when they ganged up on him. He might have been able to hold out on one of them (key word there being _might_ ) but he really stood no chance against the two of them. And, God, did they know it.

It had taken him a while to actually realize what was happening (no surprise there; Felicity and Thea were their own brand of sneaky). At first, they had used their powers of persuasion on small things. For example when Thea had asked him if she could start doing some of the smaller Arrow missions on her own every now and again, and Felicity had backed her up by using her ‘Oliver-coaxing’ voice and saying that his sister could handle it, especially after all the extra training he had put her through. After all, ‘who could have taught her better than her brother’, right? (They really had a talent for buttering him up… Felicity in particular.)

He hadn’t thought much of it the time (apart from his continuing fear of Thea getting hurt… he was never very good at toning down his protectiveness of her)… but then there were more and more frequent instances of the two of them tag-teaming him, trying to coral him into doing things their way.

It had really begun to gnaw at his pride and _still_ he couldn’t seem to stop falling for it.

But now, _now_ Oliver was going to put his foot down. Because, _no_ , he was _not_ sick so he was _not_ going to take the night off. No matter how much ‘persuading’ Felicity and Thea tried on him. Because, the _foot_ was _down._

Of course, when he told them as much, the effect was rather diminished by a sudden coughing fit that attacked him. He could tell his plan was really _not_ working when Felicity gave him that look that told him he was not funny. (This look was surprisingly similar to her ‘you can be such an idiot’ look that she subjected him to every now and then.) 

“Oh, yeah, Oliver, totally not sick.” She said with sarcasm, though the concerned light in her eyes took away from the bite of her words.

At her side, Thea nodded in agreement, an eyebrow raised at her brother’s behavior. “You know, Ollie, after all the preaching you gave me about having to be in top condition to do this job, you’re not really doing yourself any favors.” 

He crossed his arms. “I’m _fine._ ” He insisted, trying to move past them and out the door of his and Thea’s apartment. They continued to block him, much to his frustration.

“You’re _not_ fine and you know it. You can’t go out there and put a beating on the bad guys like this? Look at you! You can barely stand!”

Oliver’s frown deepened. He could definitely _stand_ , he was just… swaying a bit.

“Felicity’s right.” Thea picked up smoothly right as the blonde finished, cutting off his protests before they even started. “You won’t be any help out there tonight; if anything you’ll be a liability. You don’t want to get one of us hurt, do you?”

Now that was a low blow. His sister was well aware that his biggest fear was _him_ being the cause of any of his loved ones’ pain. His eyes narrowed in what was supposed to be a menacing glare at her when Felicity started talking again (at _this_ rate, he’d never get a word in edgewise).

“Look, Oliver, we’re just worried about you. You haven’t been feeling well all week and you’ve only been getting worse.” She moved closer to him and held one of his hands between her much smaller ones. “We _love_ you and we just don’t want to see you get hurt, especially when it could have been prevented. So just take the night off, will you? Better one night away than a few weeks if something happens. We can’t have our fearless leader out of commission for too long, now can we?” She asked him with twinkling eyes, her other hand coming up to cup his cheek, lightly stroking through his stubble.

Oliver could already feel his resolve cracking. (He _had_ mentioned she were really good at buttering him up, right?)

“Please, Ollie, for us. Just one night. I promise Dig, Laurel and I can take care of everything.” Thea added, shifting to stand at his side, hands clutching his elbow and hooking her chin over his shoulder to look up at him with big eyes.

Yep, they were definitely tag-teaming him. No doubt about that. Between Felicity’s gentle prodding and Thea’s patented pleading face, he knew he wasn’t going to last long.

So he sighed… and nodded. (Later he would blame his clouded mind for giving up on the foot so soon.)

Both women smiled triumphantly and gave each other a _look_ that he knew meant nothing good. Still, when they began to coax him towards the couch, he didn’t protest. He decided that, at this point, it was best to just let them do what they wanted. 

Felicity helped him get comfortable, arranging the pillows around him and laying a thick blanket over him, whilst Thea went to the kitchen to start some tea (she was really into the whole herbal remedy thing) and grab some cough meds. Together they got him installed in the couch, all cozied up and surrounded by every possible thing he could need to deal with his sickness.

As they moved to go, Oliver reached out of his blanket pile and grabbed Felicity’s hand, twining their fingers together. “If I’m staying, so are you.” He told her, lowering his voice into that slightly pleading tone he knew she had a weakness for (she wasn’t the only one with a few tricks). “I’ll get better faster if you’re here.”

Her eyes softened around the edges and she squeezed his hand, acquiescing. She glanced back to Thea, ready to tell her to go on without her. But his sister was already ahead of her and pulled on her jacket, rolling her eyes fondly at the two of them.

“I’ll leave you two lovebirds to it.” Thea said quickly, ducking down to give Felicity a quick hug goodbye and then leaning in to press a kiss to Oliver’s temple. “Get better, big brother, you still owe rematch after our last spar.” She told with a teasing smile before straightening and heading to the door. She wiggled her fingers at them. “You kids don’t do anything too crazy now!” 

Felicity laughed as the door shut behind the younger Queen sibling. Oliver used her distraction to his advantage and tugged her down on the couch next to him. He wrapped both his arms around her waist and placed his face into the crook of her neck, breathing in her comforting scent. Felicity hummed and began carding her fingers slowly through his hair, lulling him into a sense of peacefulness, something that wasn’t easy for him. 

They spent most of their evening like that, tangled together under a swath of blankets, Oliver allowing himself to be soothed by Felicity as the TV played quietly in the background. It was actually quite nice; despite the fact his head felt increasingly heavy and his chest ached (he’d been through much worse, of course, but it was the principal of the thing). 

“Sh, Oliver, it’s ok. Go to sleep.” A warm voice whispered softly in this ear. 

As it grew harder and harder to keep his eyes open, Oliver decided that maybe it wasn’t so bad having a girlfriend and a sister that got along so well… especially if it ended up with things like this. Really, there were worse things. Maybe he should find a way to thank them both.

But there would be time for that later. Now, he simply let himself drift off into a peaceful slumber.


	20. T is for TALL

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I have a thing for height differences ;) After this one, just six more to go!

Sometimes Felicity forgot just how _tall_ Oliver was. Compared to her slight frame, the man was simply gargantuan (not that that was a bad thing… well, actually, it wasn’t really a bad thing at all, but she was getting off track). More often than not she was suddenly reminded of the fact that she was somewhat vertically challenged at random moments in her day-to-day life. And nearly all of those involved Oliver and his ever-exasperating height. For example, when they got home and she couldn’t reach the top shelves, he liked to step close behind her and pluck whatever she needed from above her before reaching down to hand it to her, amused by the whole thing. Or when he was sitting behind his desk, clearly exhausted, and she approached him barefooted, coming to stand between legs, only to notice even then she had some trouble hooking her chin over the top of his head as she hugged him (she didn’t let that stop her, though, Oliver gave _very_ good hugs). Moments like that made her feel like he engulfed her with his sheer size. 

So, yes, the height difference between always seemed larger than she thought. Now, Felicity knew she was on the shorter side (hence the constant heels, though their cute factor also helped in that regard) but she wasn’t _short_ -short (she was still 5’5’’)… so she really shouldn’t feel so tiny next to him all the time. But then, that might also be due to the fact that he had muscles on top of his muscles, which probably didn’t help her case much. 

Still, she supposed it had its upsides. She didn’t have to climb on top of the kitchen counters anymore to reach the highest shelves… and it was definitely easier doing other chores around the house, like changing light bulbs and stuff). Not to mention, all that muscle he was packing really helped when they were bringing in the groceries. Felicity supposed that having to maintain the physique of a superhero helped more with the mundane than Oliver or the others let on.

And then there were the _other_ nice things about the height difference. Like the fact that when he wrapped himself around her, she fit easily against him, her head against his chest, ear over his steadily-beating heart. She really loved that, it made his embraces feel even safer… made her feel as if she were home, cheesy as that sounded (she meant it when she said Oliver gave _really_ good hugs). Felicity also liked that it made it easy for him to kiss her forehead (which he did, often) and that she could effortlessly fit under his arm when they walked together.

Still, there were still moments where it was a struggle. Like right now, for example.

Felicity had just come home after a long, long day at work (both at Queen Consolidated and the Arrow cave), Oliver following close behind her. They were both quiet as they went through their evening ritual, she quickly slipping her heels off her feet whilst he went for a quick shower. On another night, she might’ve joined him but, as it was, she was simply out of energy. Instead she quickly got changed into some of her most comfy pjs (she was long past trying to impress him with something slinkier; she’d leave those uncomfortable contraptions for special occasions, _thankyouverymuch_ ) before wandering down to the kitchen to heat up some of yesterday’s leftovers. No Big Belly Burger today unfortunately.

As she stood putting some day-old pasta on the stove, she heard Oliver come in. He was immediately by her side, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind.

“Hey.” She said softly in greeting, stifling a yawn. He made a soft noise of reply, muffled as he placed his face in the side of her neck. They stood like that for a while, just enjoying the rare moment of peace and quiet. Of course, Oliver was soon distracted, their innocent embrace becoming a little more heated. He began kissing the sensitive skin of her neck, his arms tightening around her waist. His hands were slowly creeping under her shirt, palm warm over the skin of her stomach, his thumb rubbing tantalizing circles over her hip bone, dipping down to the waistband of her sleep shorts. 

Felicity couldn’t take this for much longer and abruptly turned off the stove and put the pasta to the side (safety first… they’d had _way_ too many close calls when they got ‘distracted’, she guessed that was the problem with them living together). As soon as she was done with her little task, she whirled around in Oliver’s arms and crushed her lips to his, winding her arms around his neck to do so. 

And herein lay the problem.

Because, really, standing on your tiptoes for any length of time (even when kissing an incredibly good-looking man) can be ridiculously exhausting. Especially since she was already exhausted. _God_ , her legs ached, she felt like her entire body was made of goo. _Currently increasingly pleased goo_ , she thought as Oliver molded his lips against hers, one hand tangling in her loose hair, _but goo nonetheless_.

But Felicity would not let that stand in her way. _No siree_. She would get her make out, damn it. 

She anchored herself more firmly around Oliver’s neck, trying to ignore the general exhaustion of her body. But she really hoped they’d move this along soon and onto some sort of flat surface because _ow_. Only her fiancé, wonderful though he was, seemed perfectly happy where he was. _Now of all times he has to learn patience?_

When her feet began cramping under all the _standing on tiptoes_ , Felicity had had enough. _Honestly, how do ballerinas_ do _it?_ “Damn it would you quite being so tall?” Felicity finally let out, dropping back down to the heels of her feet. _Ah, sweet relief_.

Oliver let out a surprised laugh, watching her with amusement and no small amount of adoration. “Not exactly something I can help.” He told her dryly, though still clearly having trouble suppressing his laughter.

Unwillingly, Felicity felt the beginnings of a smile begin to tug at the corners of her mouth. “Stop laughing.” She said, before gesturing wildly between them. “Some of us have to do a lot of hard word for this, you know.”

He watched her silently for a moment, eyes shining in that familiar light that meant he was wondering how the two of them were so lucky to get _here_. It made her temptation to smile all the worse. His hand trailed away from her hair to cup her cheek for a moment, placing a soft, decidedly chaste (at least compare to _before_ ) kiss to her lips.

And then, very abruptly, she found herself being lifted with ease and gently depositing her atop one of the counters. Before she could fully comprehend what happened Oliver released the grip he’d had on her waist and gripped her face between his large hands, kissing her with renewed intensity. She felt her mind go completely numb with pleasure, no longer preoccupied by her earlier predicament. She returned his kisses with passion, opening her mouth under his, moving her knees apart to pull him closer to her. 

Finally, when breathing became a problem, Oliver pulled away from her slightly, eyes burning. 

“Better?” He asked lowly, expression dark with desire.

“Mmhmm.” Felicity barely made a noise of agreement, before pulling him in again, without any intention of letting him go again in the foreseeable future. The pasta could wait. 

Later, after they were both lying satiated, tangled together in bed (Oliver had very gallantly carried her to the bedroom, always sensitive to her aches and pains), Felicity couldn’t help but think that maybe the height thing wasn’t so bad, after all.


	21. U is for UBIQUITOUS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry it took me so long to write another one of these, but here you go! Prepare for fluff ;)

Felicity was well aware how little privacy her life afforded her; being both the CEO of Palmer Tech and the wife of the one and only Mayor Queen meant the media constantly hounded her in her day-to-day life. Of course, that didn’t mean she was used to _this_ level of attention. There were paps camped outside on their _doorstep_ for crying out loud. She was pretty sure that their neighbors had to hate them by now. 

And all because she and Oliver were going to take part in a perfectly normal, natural part of adult life… _I mean, people are having babies left and right these days, why should it matter to everyone that I have a bun in my oven?_

_Ugh, I should not have used that reference. Who says ‘bun in the oven’ anymore? It just sounds wrong._

_Aaaaaand now I’m getting completely off track_.

Point was, she didn’t understand what the big deal was. _Yes_ , she was pregnant. _Yes_ , that meant there would be a new Queen gracing the world soon… And, _yes_ , baby Queen would be the first of the next generation of Star City’s long-standing, though often troubled, first family.

But why did that make her pregnancy public property? 

She just wished she could have some privacy, a moment to adjust to the idea of being a _mother_. God, she was _terrified_. Don't get her wrong; she was excited too, ecstatic even. Still, the fact that in around six months time she would be responsible for a tiny, little person’s health and safety was rather petrifying.

And it certainly didn’t help that the media was watching her every move, analyzing each small thing she did and putting her down for all her perceived ‘wrong-doings’. Hell, just yesterday some talk show lackey had said she was going to be a terrible mother after a paparazzo had taken a picture of her holding a Starbucks. (It was _decaf_ – and even then, studies have provided no conclusive evidence on the whole ‘drinking coffee when pregnant is bad’ thing. _Honestly_.)

But, seriously. Her face had really been _everywhere_ these past two weeks, on every tabloid cover and ever news station – she just couldn’t get away from it.

Sometimes the so-called ‘reports’ were kind, positive… but more often than not they seemed to be mean-spirited. And although she was used to some media attention, even Felicity had had enough.

So, she was doing the mature thing. She was taking the day off and spending it cuddled up on the couch in the penthouse (and she wasn’t hiding no matter what Thea and Laurel claimed, _thank you very much_ ). Thus far, her day away was going quite well; she had a bowl full of popcorn on her lap and a thick blanket covering her from head to toe.

Of course, it was all rather cozy until she decided to do some channel surfing ( _really, I should have learned my lesson and stuck to Netflix)._

Her face was on the screen _again_.

_Ugh, why._

She quickly changed it to the next channel, only to be bombarded by herself once more (and damn if that wasn’t a weird statement).

She kept flickering through, finding herself pausing when she came to Oliver’s familiar, handsome face. He was making his way out of city hall, probably on his way home to her. She smiled at the thought; he’d promised to stop by for lunch. 

Of course, his leaving the building only led to him being accosted by so-called ‘journalists’, all of who were screaming at him. Oliver was experienced in this, however, and artfully ignored them as he always did. But then he did something entirely unexpected – he _stopped_. Felicity sat up straighter, wondering what he was thinking. Only then did she realize he intended to answer the last question shouted out.

“Mr. Queen, are you excited to become a father for the first time?”

A wide smile broke across her husband’s serious face as he came to a stand still, his blue eyes sparkling. He shifted closer to the reporter (Felicity decided she liked the guy, he actually asked a _nice_ question). 

“Yeah, yeah I really am.” He said honestly, before letting his gaze shift down almost bashfully. “Part of me is more excited to see Felicity become a mother, though; I know she’ll be the most amazing mom.”

Felicity’s heart melted a little. 

Suddenly, Oliver straightened on the screen, as if coming back to himself. He nodded at the reporter (Felicity now _really_ liked the guy – she might even offer him a position at Palmer Tech). “No more questions.” He stated, before striding through the crowd, his frankly unnecessary security struggling to keep up. 

Felicity felt all her previous anger and resentment fade away, her eyes tearing up the slightest bit. She hated the paparazzi, no doubt about that, but at least she had Oliver at her back. He really was her partner in every way. _God_ , she loved him so much and she just _knew_ their baby would to.

Her hand went to cover her slightly swollen stomach, a smile on her face. It was less frightening to be a mom when she had Oliver’s faith in her. With that in mind, she got up from her cocoon on the couch and decided to dress into something she could go out in.

A mere twenty minutes later, she heard the front door open, her husband announcing his presence at home with a cheesy ‘honey, I’m home’. Felicity smiled widely, finishing up with her ponytail and smoothing down the summer dress she’d picked out. She made her way to the front room, a spring in her step (figuratively of course, she didn’t really _skip_ anywhere, not unless she wanted to break an ankle – heels were not made for skipping, and she certainly wouldn’t risk trying that out whilst pregnant). 

Her happy grin widened when she saw the small bouquet Oliver had with him, and the way he looked her up and down with dark eyes.

“Those for me?” She asked, darting in for a hello kiss. He surprised her by deepening it so much so that they were both slightly out of breath when they parted.

“You seemed down for this morning.” He said in explanation as he handed her the flowers.

That same heart melting feeling from earlier came back in full-force. She leaned closer to him, burying herself in his warm embrace. He humored her happily, rubbing her back soothingly.

“Are you going somewhere?” He asked after a while, his voice rumbling in his chest, freeing a hand to gesture to her outfit.

“ _We_ are going out for lunch.”

“Out?”

“Yep, _out_.” She pulled back slightly, keeping her arms around his waist. “I feel like showing off my husband to the world.”

He looked amused, leaning her forehead against hers. “Do you now?”

“Well, that and I think I look fantastic in this dress, it would actually be a shame not to get photographed in it.” 

Oliver let out full-bellied laugh. “Well, you are right about one thing, you _do_ look fantastic in that dress.”

Felicity beamed at that, quickly put her flowers in a vase, and marched them both out of the apartment. Oliver followed her lead, wrapping his arm around her waist as soon as they hit the streets, his hand lying protectively atop her stomach.

And the next morning when she saw the pictures all over the magazines in a newspaper stand, she didn’t ignore it and walk by like she usually would; no, she paused to buy one instead. She should cut out some of the photos, she decided; some were actually kind of cute.

And she really was right about the dress.


	22. V is for VERDANT

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ummmm so, this is probably not at all what you think it will be ;) Also, just for some context, for this drabble I'm assuming Oliver no longer has the club (even though as of now we're not really sure what happened to it in the show). Enjoy!
> 
> Fair warning: PREPARE FOR FLUFF :)

“That… That is–” Oliver couldn’t even finish what he wanted to say, too surprised by what had greeted him at home.

“Yes?” Felicity replied with a faux innocent expression that wasn’t fooling either of them. 

“That’s–” He couldn’t.

“Hmm?” 

Finally he coughed it out. “That’s a cat.” He said, staring at the black fur ball currently occupying their home. 

Amusement pulled at Felicity’s lips. “Why yes it is, Oliver.”

He reiterated, pointing to it, wondering why she wasn’t more worried about this new development. “A cat. On our couch.”

“Uhuh.”

“In our living room.”

“Yep.”

“In our _apartment_.” 

“Your observational skills never fail you, huh?” His fiancé replied with thick sarcasm, her eyebrow rising slightly. 

He made an abrupt gesture with his hand, frustrated and confused. “Felicity–”

“Oh here we go.” 

“ _Why_ is there a cat in our apartment?” 

“I was wondering when you’d finally get around to this part. There’s actually a very good explanation for this, I promise.” Her face took on a slightly sheepish expression.

Oliver gestured for her to go on, words stuck in his throat.

“Well, I was just making my way out of the cave, minding my own business, when I heard something crying out in a nearby alley. Obviously, I went to investigate. I mean I’m basically a founding member of Team Arrow; I had to do my part, right?” She didn’t wait for him to answer, instead going, pacing around their living room. “So, anyways I go look, and I found this poor little guy stuck underneath a couple old boxes.” Felicity bent down to pick up the cat ( _kitten_ actually, upon closer inspection), holding it with gentle hands, staring at it lovingly. Oliver nearly groaned, knowing this wasn’t a good sign. She held the kitten close to her chest, regardless. “I helped him out and the next thing I know he’s following me home. And I couldn’t just leave the lil’ baby outside. Poor Verdant would have gotten soaked out there.” 

 _Wait, what?_ “You _named_ it?” 

“Him. I named him. He’s not a toy.” And now she was glaring at him. _Great_.

He backtracked. “Yes, sorry, I know. Wait – you named him _Verdant_? Why?” Oliver was honestly flabbergasted. (And if using the word ‘flabbergasted’ wasn’t a sign he probably spent too much time around Felicity, he wasn’t sure what was. Though, he didn’t regret that. Most of the time, anyways. Right _now_ might be a rare exception.”

Felicity seemed suddenly shy, sending a small smile his way. “Well you lost your Verdant, so I thought I could give you a new one.” She told him sweetly; the kindness of the gesture swiftly struck Oliver and he found his walls cracking. (It was just such a _Felicity_ thing to do – after all, who else would think a cat was a valid replacement for a club? Especially when that club was something that, in the long run, he had let go of easily when he’d finally started his life with her…) “And look at his eyes.” His better half continued, ignorant of his internal monologue. She pointed to the kitten’s bright green eyes as they roved around curiously. “Besides, I think the team could use a mascot.”

With that suggestion, she put Verdant down on the ground, who immediately darted to Oliver’s legs, curling himself around them, purring softly.

“Aw, he likes you.” Felicity said excitedly.

He didn’t even have to look up to see the decision already made in her eyes. He sighed, finally facing her again. “We’re keeping him, aren’t we?”

She smiled brightly, victorious. “Yep.” 

“I’m not cleaning the litter box.”

“Sure, I’ll do it… for the first couple weeks anyways.”

Oliver let out yet another sigh, though even he could tell his ‘grumpiness’ was half-assed. “ _Really_?”

Felicity could only shake her head fondly, leaning in closer to him to pat her hand over his chest. “Honey, it’s adorable that you think you’ll be able to resist him.”

He pinned her down with a pointed look. “I managed to resist you for longer than I probably should have.”

“Well, you’re not _wrong_.”

“Finally, I got something right.” 

She rolled her eyes. “Just kiss me, Mayor Queen.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” He said, complying willingly.

And if Verdant forced himself into his arms later, well Oliver complied willingly then too. Even if it was somewhat reluctantly. But, maybe the cat would grow on him.

Felicity certainly did. 

(Well, not that she had needed help to do that. She was just naturally lovable. At least, that’s what he would tell himself next time she came home with a stray.)


	23. W is for WEDDING

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this might not be exactly what you'd expect from 'wedding' ;)   
> Also, this makes references from events in the 'daddy' drabble at the beginning of the alphabet.  
> Enjoy!

Oliver didn't think he could ever really describe what it had felt like to walk his daughter down the aisle. His little girl, his Ellie, was getting ready to start a family of her own, away from her parents. He had both never been more proud or more terrified. Proud because she’s grown up so beautifully, become the good, _kind_ woman he always knew she would be. But terrified. Terrified because he wouldn’t be able to protect her anymore… or rather, she didn’t need him to anymore.

In fact, the truth was that she hadn’t needed him like that in a _long_ time. However, it was like now he couldn’t deny it anymore; he couldn’t put his head in the proverbial sand anymore, as he was often likely to do (at least, according to Felicity).

He had to let his baby go, hard though it was. 

He knew he was being overly dramatic about this (he tended to be dramatic about a lot of things though – not everyone got their thrills by putting on a mask and shooting people full of arrows like some modern-day Robin Hood… again, Felicity’s words, not his) but he couldn’t help but feel that today had an air of frailty,

Perhaps he should call on some of his wife’s optimism. Felicity would probably tell him that just because this chapter’s closed, that doesn’t mean the entire book is done… Or something along those lines, anyway. Come to think of it, she’s probably make a more computer-y metaphor…. and a more confusing one. 

But that was beside the point.

Optimism. That’s what he needed. Oliver just needed to focus on Ellie’s happiness now. That was the very least she deserved.

“You’re thinking too much.” A familiar voice said from his side, a comforting hand coming to rest in the crook of his arm. 

“Am I?” He asked, turning to face his ever-beautiful wife. 

“You are.” Felicity confirmed, smiling sympathetically. “Oliver, this is a _good_ thing, I promise. I mean, just look at her out there.” 

He did, moving his gaze up to where the bride and groom’s first dance was taking place. Felicity moved in closer to him, hugging his arm to her as Oliver focused in on their daughter. 

She looked so… happy. Radiant with joy. Smiling and laughing as her new husband set about twirling her around. To Oliver’s experience eye, Marcus was not the most graceful of dancers, but then his son-in-law had never claimed to be. And he didn’t care, his eyes clearly to full of his love for Ellie, dancing only to make her smile wider.

Oliver recognized that look in Marcus’ eyes.

He’d worn the very same look himself at his own wedding almost three decades ago. 

God, but he could remember it like it was yesterday. He could still feel how he’d held Felicity on the dance floor that day, close and warm and breathtakingly _alive_ in his arms. He hadn’t been able to keep his hands to himself the entire night, keeping her tucked close to his side when he could or placing his palm at the small of her back. She’d responded in kind, fingers twisted into the sleeve of his shirt, head resting against his shoulder. He remembered the utter gratitude he’d felt, the relief that everything, _everything_ that he had been through, had been worth it to get to that moment.

It was the most important day of his life, along with the birth of his children.

One who was having that same moment now.

He refocused his eyes on Ellie, his heart a little less burdened upon seeing the sheer happiness radiating from her.

It really was time to let her go.

But the sadness that had tinged that thought earlier wasn’t plaguing him anymore. 

“There’s the smile I’ve been waiting for.” Felicity said to him quietly, putting her chin on his shoulder to look at him. He rolled his eyes good-naturedly at her teasing tone. She let out a light laugh before pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. “By the way, you might want to see who’s coming this way.”

He turned away from her and noticed Ellie walking towards him, holding tight to Marcus’ arm to support her (she’d once told him that she hadn’t inherited her mom’s knack for walking in heels). Oliver felt his smile widen. 

“Dad!” She said brightly in greeting. “You do know I kind of need my father for the _father_ -daughter dance, right?”

 _“_ Of course.” He held out his hand to her with faux gallantry, as he would when she’d been a little girl. Ellie rolled her eyes at him fondly and allowed him to lead her out onto the floor.

Oliver twirled his daughter around more gracefully than her new husband had; he’d been the one to first teach her how to do this dance, after all. (He hadn’t grown up a Queen without taking _something_ useful away from it.) He lost track of time and too soon the last notes of the song were playing. 

“I’m proud of you, I hope you know that.” He found himself saying as they walked back towards Felicity and Marcus, who seemed deep in conversation. 

Normally, right about now, she (and her brothers, were they in her position) would groan at him, brush off his sentimentality. To Ellie’s credit, however, she seemed to understand the importance of this moment to him.

“Yeah, Dad, I know.” She shifted closer to him to wrap herself in her arms again, hugging him fiercely. “I’m proud of you too.”

She’d said the same thing to him when he’d revealed his past to her, both on the island and later as the Green Arrow and all its incarnations.

Her saying it again... Well, nothing made him feel more honored… and more worthy.

Perhaps she was living her own life now, but at the very least he knew that despite all of his wrong doings he had done _right_ by her. 

And he hoped he would continue to do so for the rest of his life.


	24. X is for X-RAY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just two more left! Hope you like ;)

It was just a stupid, everyday accident that caused it. Just dumb luck, really. Oliver had only made one wrong move, taken a single misstep into the road, only to be crashed into by a biker. Of course, with all the cameras that had been on him, he couldn’t react as he had been trained to, as he normally would have. So he hadn’t braced himself, hadn’t used his quick reflexes and had gone down with a loud _crack_. He’d landed wrong, of course, and was now left with a broken arm. 

Felicity knew all of this, of course, knew the story, knew why he had let it happen…. But still, how could he have been so _stupid_? Even though she was aware he was trying to keep his cover intact, that didn’t mean he had to go and _break_ his _arm_! _He’s an_ archer _, for crying out loud!_  

_And now he has to go to the hospital… Serves him right. Honestly._

Felicity followed close behind as Oliver was put into an ambulance. She had to admit, objectively, that he was playing his part as the injured rich boy _perfectly_. Not that she would admit that to him.

They arrived at the hospital amidst a media storm; everyone seemed to want to make sure that Star City’s golden boy, and only mayoral candidate, was ok.

 _Oh, he’ll be ok until I have a moment alone with him_ , Felicity thought, as she pushed through the crowd, Oliver’s hired security following close behind. The security was only for appearances as he ( _normally – when he wasn’t being stupid, that is_ ) didn’t need it. They didn’t know that, of course, and trailed her doggedly.

She herself was trekking behind her fiancé’s gurney, trying her best not to look annoyed (that wouldn’t help their ‘image’ either).

Once they were finally inside the emergency room, Oliver insisted he could stand just fine, much to the chagrin of the paramedics. They let him do as he wanted though, not finding it themselves to say no to a Queen. In the meantime, a nurse approached them, speaking quickly to the two paramedics before directing Oliver and herself to an exam room. As soon as the door shut, Felicity rounded on him.

“Before you yell, let me explain-” He began immediately, only to be interrupted.

“Oh no, you don’t need to explain. I understand perfectly. I _understand_ that, because of your paranoia about people finding out just who the Green Arrow really is, you allowed yourself to have an ‘accident’ that _clearly_ broke your arm. I _understand_ that now you’re going to be out of the field for a while, which means the team is not going to have backup, _you’re_ going to get increasingly grumpy and _I’m_ going to have to pick up after you. Which would be fine, if this wasn’t your own damn fault. Oh, and let’s not mention the fact you’ve basically left yourself _defenseless_ ; so if one of our enemies attack now, you’ll probably only end up more hurt and maybe the kind of hurt you can’t just _spring back from!”_ Felicity finally let out a long breath; her voice horse and her throat aching with unshed tears. 

He winced, and not from the pain (she knew _that_ for sure because the paramedics had been kind enough to give him a shot of morphine). “I’m sorry.” He said after a moment, with complete sincerity. “I didn’t mean to make you mad.”

“I know. And I’m not _mad_ , not really. I’m- I’m worried.” She admitted quietly, sitting heavily by his side. She worried incessantly over him when he wasn’t seriously injured; and now that he was, it would only make it worse. 

Oliver’s shame-faced expression softened slightly. He used his uninjured hand to catch hers, rubbing his thumb comfortingly over her knuckles. “I really am sorry. But don’t worry, I _promise_ I’ll be fine. I have _you_ and the team.” He smiled at her, amusement twinkling in his blue eyes. “Besides, I’m not exactly defenseless yet – I can use more than just a bow, you know.”

She let out a relieved laugh and leaned her forehead on his shoulder, breathing in his scent, letting herself be soothed by his presence. She didn’t even make to move away when the doctor finally walked in. They spoke for a minute, Felicity not really paying attention.

“Alright then Mr. Queen, I’m going to have a nurse come help me cut off your shirt, so as not to jostle that arm, and then I’m going to do a quick examination. You’ll probably also need to go in for an x-ray, ok?” She registered the doctor say, finally peering up at him. He was young, as doctors went; probably only a year or so out of med school.” 

“Sure.” Oliver replied easily.

The doctor ( _really should have listened for his name_ ) let in the same nurse from before and they set to work on the shirt. Felicity moved out of the way. They both worked professionally.

Well they did, at least until the shirt was finally off. At first she wondered why they both stilled, the nurse letting out a quiet gasp. A spike of panic went through her, wondering if his arm was worse than she’d thought.

And then she realized.

 _The scars_.

It had been so long since she’d really noticed them that she forgot that people found them jarring when first seeing them. It seemed they were unprecedented, even to medical professionals. But then she supposed, no one would expect Oliver Queen to bear such horrific scars. 

She looked up to his face and noticed his expression has shuttered. Felicity hated it when he closed off like that, her heart aching for him. He’d once told her that he felt like an animal in a zoo when people stared at him like he was being stared at now. She found herself moving forward before she could stop herself, standing by his side again.

She turned cool eyes to the doctor and nurse. “How’s the arm looking?” She asked pointedly. 

They both seemed to snap out of it and, to their credit, seemed very apologetic. (She hoped this would be a learning experience for them.) 

“Right, yes.” Doctor What’s-His-Face murmured, taking in Oliver’s arm before running through a quick exam. Felicity couldn’t help but feel somewhat smug at his flustered expression. “The arm’s definitely broken, but we’re going to do that x-ray first to see exactly where the break is before we set it. Nurse Hollaway here will take you to the x-ray suite in just a bit. I’m afraid your fiancé is going to have to wait here.” With that, he left, cheeks still red with embarrassment. Nurse Hollaway said something about arranging the x-ray before following.

“That was certainly interesting.” Felicity said as soon as they’d gone, leaning her chin on Oliver’s (unbroken) shoulder.  

He wasn’t fooled by her casualness and turned to give her a quick kiss of gratitude. “Thanks for that.”

“Well, I could hardly have them running their eyes all over my man. This hot bod’s all mine, in case you forgot.” 

He let out a surprised laugh. “Hot bod? _Really_?”

Felicity’s words caught up with her and she felt her cheeks redden the slightest bit. “What? I was just trying it out for style… and now I know not to do it again.” 

“Good.” He replied smartly, pressing another kiss to her temple. “Though you _are_ right; this hot bod _is_ all yours.”

“Oh God, that is actually, _truly_ awful.”

Oliver only laughed again.


	25. Y is for YACHT

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one more to go...  
> Enjoy!

It had been so long since he’d last had one that he hadn’t recognized the signs. He felt them though, suffocating him, trapping him. His heart was beating painfully in his chest, battering relentlessly against his ribcage. He felt his vision blur, everything around him seeming to slow down until time outside of him seemed to stop completely.

 _Out_ , he thought, _I need to get out, away from here_.

He pushed himself through dense, suddenly unfamiliar bodies. He stumbled away from the room and into the narrow hallway, his breath escaping him in quick pants. He forced himself to keep going, to keep moving. He needed the open sky, he needed fresh air, he needed anything but being _trapped here._

He barely managed to make it to the stairs that would lead him up to deck, to _freedom_ , before he collapsed at the bottom of them, his shaking limbs no longer able to hold him upright. His breathing was even faster now, leaving his lungs forcefully, harsh and unforgiving.

 _So close_.

But he couldn’t go any farther. He couldn’t, he _couldn’t_.

 _How_ did he get here? _How_ did he let this happen? 

It was supposed to be simple, easy. All he’d had to do was go to an old school friend’s boat party, try to garner his support for his mayoral campaign. But the yacht, _God_ the yacht; it had felt wrong almost immediately, but he’d ignored it, pushed through it. But slowly, slowly the familiarity of it had become too much and his panicked mind had brought him back to that horrific night on the Queen’s Gambit.

There was no way to stop it now, the sheer, all-encompassing _panic_ that was settling over his entire body. 

It was like the water was back, covering him, _choking_ him. And the pain in his chest was coming back too; he couldn’t distinguish where it was from. Whether it was from the now, the present, or whether it was from back _then_ … from the lack of air as water was forced down the throat. He couldn’t…. he couldn’t find his way out of the water, out of the dark.

And then there were hands grabbing him, pulling him out; strong, gentle, beautifully _familiar_ hands.

“Oliver. Oliver, honey, please, please look at me.” Her voice was soft, and kind. Concerned, of course. But it was the tenderness, the generosity in that voice that he listened to. Soft fingers touched his face, encouraging to look up, to escape his mind and get back to reality. 

“That’s it.” He tried focusing in on her features, tried to picture her through the blur. “Now, breathe with me ok? Just breathe.” She took his trembling fingers in her own and lifted their entwined hands to her chest, over the steady beat of her heart. He felt her breathing underneath his palm, tried to find comfort in it.

 _You’re not in the water, you’re not._ This isn’t the Gambit, the accident that started his five-year hell. He wasn’t going to end up on Lian Yu again, he wasn’t going to see his father shoot himself again, he wasn’t going to be tortured and trained and, and, and-

_Stop. Stop._

_You’re not there._

_Here. You’re here._

“That right, Oliver, you’re right here, with me.”

“Felicity?” He asked, finally able to see her properly. Her eyes welled with tears when he recognized her. 

“Yeah, it’s me.” Her voice cracked in relief, and she tightened the grip she had on his hand, her thumb stroking the skin of his cheek soothingly.

He looked around, realizing he had stumbled and fallen right by the stairs and that he was lying sprawled out on the floor. Felicity was crouched in front of him, her face lined with worry, gaze glued to him.

Oliver took a deep breath, matching hers, felt his thundering heart slow down the slightest bit.

“I have-” He swallowed, his throat dry and rough with disuse. “I have to go back to the-”

“No, no, you need a moment.” Felicity insisted, pushing him back down from where he was trying to stand. “John’s covering for you at the party, don’t worry about that. Just _breathe_. Please?”

“Ok, ok.” He muttered, allowing her to manhandle him into a more comfortable position, sitting against the wall of the hallway. The stairs seemed to daunting now, going outside a distant thought as Felicity sat next to him, pulling him down to lean against her chest, her fingers carding calmingly through his hair. He wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, curling himself around her. They sat in silence for a while; he wasn’t sure how long. All he knew was that his chest stopped hurting and the dark was getting farther and farther away. 

“I didn’t know you had panic attacks.” Felicity said quietly, breaking through the sleepy haze of his calming brain.

“I don't anymore. Well, I didn’t. Not since you.”

She froze underneath him and then suddenly held him even tighter, pressing a long kiss to his temple. She didn’t say a word after that, seeming to understand that all he needed was her presence. She was his comfort, after all, his _home_. She knew all his facets and masks and broken edges. He could have moments of weakness around her and not be ashamed. Because she loved him, and he loved her. And that was all that mattered right now.

So, Oliver listened to the beat of her heart and let himself be soothed. They could get back up later, together.


	26. Z is for ZENITH

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well guys, this is the end! Thanks for sticking with me all this time ;)
> 
> Also a HUGE thank you to my bestie Greti for helping with all my (many, many) typos in all the drabbles! You are a magical potato and I appreciate your existence in my life <3
> 
> Hope you enjoy this last one :)

Getting here had been a difficult journey, long and fraught with struggle. Yet they’d made it, despite everything that they’d been through they were living their lives better than ever… and Felicity couldn’t be more proud. 

Happiness was not an easy feat. Nor should it be, really. It was hard work, but she and Oliver had been trying at it together for a decade… a decade of tears, of laughter, of love. Although there had been moments where she’d thought that their life together would be impossible, they managed to pull through. 

It had all been so worth it. And she was so grateful. Felicity could really ask for nothing more in her life than to have her partner by her side. And Oliver really was her partner in every way that mattered.

So, yes she was grateful and completely happy. Really, she was.

So _why_ was it so hard to write a damned speech about it?

It was just putting words to paper. (Well, words to screen because, _honestly_ , what kind of dinosaur still used paper? Oh right. Oliver. But Oliver had spent five years stranded all over so he had an excuse for his lack of technological savvy. Well, kind of. But that was besides the point.)

_Speech, speech, have to write this speech. It’s our tenth anniversary. Tomorrow, we will have been married for ten whole years. That’s a miracle for us, really, considering our nighttime activities… Come on, Felicity, put something down!_

_Aaaaand, nothing._

_Thanks for nothing, brain._

Felicity groaned and let her head fall against her desk. “This is so stupid. I had a whole month to write this stupid speech before the party and what do I do? I leave it until the night before.” She muttered with a heavy sigh. Honestly, she was the CEO of a multi-billion-dollar technology conglomerate; she gave speeches all the time!

But none so personally important as this one... How was she supposed to adequately explain how much Oliver has meant to her over the years? How was she supposed to explain that her heart still skipped a beat whenever she took a moment to just _look_ at him? That his face was the first and last thing she saw everyday? That he and the daughter he’d helped to give her meant absolutely everything to her? What words could she possibly use to explain all _that_ to the world?

_Oliver is honestly so much better at doing this kind of speech. It takes him so time but when you can convince him to talk about his emotions he makes it sound like poetry._

Sometimes Felicity wished she were as prone to being over-dramatic as her husband.

But alas, she was just more evolved than him in that regard. Not that it was helping her much _now_.

_Ok, you can do this. Just write from the heart. Think of it as writing code. Really weird code, but code._

_Yeah, this isn’t going to work._

She let out another frustrated sound.

“Still haven’t written that speech?”

Felicity nearly fell off her chair in surprise when she heard her husband’s voice. “Oliver? What are you-? Curtis was supposed to keep you out today?

“Well Curtis likes me and I asked nicely.”

“You bribed him with chocolate, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I bribed him with chocolate.”

“Oliver, don’t bribe my assistants! I’ve told you like a gazillion times.” She threw her hands up in frustration, but moved on. (The damage was done, after all; Oliver Queen and his charm were already in her office). And, besides, how do you know I haven’t already written the speech? It’s very beautiful and well thought-out and-” 

“Non-existent?”

Felicity deflated slightly, put her head in her hands. “Yes. Ok, I haven’t done it yet.” She sighed deeply. “I still don’t understand how you figured that out though. I thought I was being very subtle about my complete and utter _terror_ of getting this wrong.”

“Felicity.” Oliver looked amused as he came stand before her. He turned her chair to face towards him, his hands going to the armrests so he was looming over her slightly, looking her in the eye. “We’ve been married for nearly ten years, I can always tell when you’re stressed about something. You get that look when you’re thinking about it, you know, where your nose gets all scrunched up.” He thumbed the bridge of her nose to demonstrate.

“I really didn’t think I was being so obvious.” She muttered, catching his hand before he could pull it away so she could play with his fingers.

“You weren’t. It was just obvious to me.”

“Oh.” Her heart beat a little faster. _How does he_ still _have such an effect on me? This should not be a thing that can still happen._

“You know this speech is just for our friends and family right?”

“Yeah, _one hundred_ of them. Since when do we have so many friends? Weren’t you supposed to be some vigilante lawyer?” She grouched, finding herself pouting slightly.

Oliver raised an amused eyebrow. “Well since you burst into my life and forced me to see the error of my ways, of course.” He said, with no small amount of sarcasm. The bite of his words was lessened by the fondness and love in his blue-eyed gaze.” 

“To be fair, John helped too.”

“True. But don’t think I didn’t notice the evasion.” She didn’t deny it and Oliver continued. “But, really, don’t worry so much about this speech. It’s _our_ day; you can say whatever the hell you want and I’ll still feel like the luckiest man in the world to have come to that moment. We are at the greatest point in our lives, Felicity, and it’s probably only going to get better from here on out. And that’s because of _you_.”

She clutched his hand a little tighter, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “It’s because of _us_ , Oliver.”

He smiled. “Ok, us. But my point stands. Whatever you say, whatever you do tomorrow, nothing is going to change. I will still be right there with you and I’ll still understand _exactly_ what you’re trying to say.” 

Felicity couldn’t help the returning smile that pulled at her lips. She used her grip on his hand to pull herself up and curl into his embrace. “I love you, did you know?” 

He hummed in response. “And I love you.” The strong arms around her drew her closer, comforting and warm. Finally he took a step back, cupping her face in between in his hands and leaning down to give her a reassuring kiss. When they came up for air, he grinned. “Now. What do you say you take a little break from the speech-writing and join me for lunch?”

“I could do lunch. After, can we stop by the daycare to pick up Ellie?” 

Oliver’s eyes softened. “Of course. Wouldn’t want to be without her.” 

Felicity only smiled again and grabbed his hand to drag him out. She only paused in her mission to give Curtis a stern _look_ ; it wasn’t very effective, however, with her husband following close behind her, smirking triumphantly and giving the other man a thumbs-up.

 _Honestly_ , she thought with fond exasperation _. What did I ever do to deserve him?_


End file.
